Katie Bell and the Boy From Slytherin
by JellyBellys
Summary: Katie's life is going perfectly to plan. First string Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. War Heroine. Great friends and family. There's just that one problem of the Slytherin boy who's in possession of her knickers.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: **You don't have to have read "Mudbloods of the Death Eaters" for this to make sense, but I do kind of think of this Montague and Katie as the AU versions of the Katie and Montague in "Mudbloods."

Fair warning this story time skips constantly, I've tried to make that clear with lines. :)

* * *

**Chapter One: Flower Explosions **

If he had even the slightest shred of decency, he would pretend that last night had never happened. But since this was Graham Montague, decency, if it had ever been part of him, had been obliterated long ago.

Katie stared at the roses in dismay. They were ostentatious. They were cliched. They were rainbow, and there were perhaps hundreds of them.

"He's going to tell everyone," she mumbled aloud in her flat. "Constantly. Until the day he dies."

Alicia's bedroom door opened and Katie crushed the card in her hand reflexively. Why had she not just incinerated the roses at first sight? She'd lost her touch.

"Good mor—whoa, what are those?" Alicia asked, mid yawn. "That must've cost a fortune!"

"Not _his _fortune," Katie muttered, even softer. After all, Montague was just like the rest of them, spending Daddy's money.

"What?" Alicia said, coming closer, bending to sniff the flowers.

"Nothing," Katie said, just grateful that Angelina had spent the night somewhere else as well. She wondered if Alicia had noticed she'd been here alone.

"Who sent them?" Alicia asked, "your birthday's ages away."

"True," Katie said, relieved she'd changed clothing as soon as she had arrived home, before the incriminating flowers had arrived by twelve owl post.

Her knickers were gone. She'd tried to look for them for a solid three seconds, become sure Montague was going to wake up, and fled, giving them up for a lost cause. And now, because she was an idiot, Montague had_ evidence. _Iron clad, Wizenagmot level evidence. Inspiration struck.

"They're for Ange," she lied.

"Ange?" Alicia said, straightening up from admiring the flowers with a raised left eyebrow. "Isn't she over at George's now?"

"Yes," Katie said.

"So who're these from? George's got competition?"

"I-" a night of drinking, and dancing, and alcohol, and—_other things_—had left Katie with a distinct lack of sleep. And lack of ability to think coherently.

Alicia's eyes narrowed, and quick as a hex, she'd lunged and grabbed the card out of Katie's hand, tearing it in half.

Katie, who had never been as fast as Alicia but was significantly taller and stronger, lunged back, trying to yank the torn parchment out of her friend's hand.

Alicia danced away.

"Give that back, Alicia!"

"Katie," Alicia read out loud, dodging her frantic blonde roommate and leaping atop the sofa, "thank you for the good time last night."

Katie's insides shriveled with mortification. If there had been any doubt about Montague's intentions when she'd opened the card, the way he'd worded the note like she was a prostitute had driven any wild thoughts of him being chivalrous about it all out of her head.  
"I wouldn't mind another round. If you want to meet up again, just send an owl to-" Alicia stopped as Katie lunged again, jumping off the sofa and darting towards the kitchen. She turned the parchment over.

Katie sprang and Alicia shrieked, kicking the bar stool into her path, and Katie went down with a crash, knocking Alicia over in the process. Like she needed more sore muscles right now.

"Oh bollocks, where's the rest of it!" Alicia wailed. She spotted the scrap of parchment still in Katie's fist, made a motion towards her, and Katie, in the deepest throes of desperation, stuffed it in her mouth, chewed frantically while Alicia's jaw dropped, and swallowed the incriminating rest.

The two girls stared at each other for a while, acknowledging that Katie had just eaten paper.

"Holy kneazle droppings," Alicia said faintly, "I'm guessing that wasn't Wood."

"Wood_?_" Katie said. Even twenty hours ago the insinuation that she'd sleep with Oliver Wood, great captain, good friend, cute (but perhaps mentally deranged Quidditch fanatic) would've insulted her deeply.

As it was, she'd take out a ten page spread in the Prophet with graphic details of a one-night stand with Oliver Wood to erase her activities of the previous night from the universe. Even if it most likely would've involved Quidditch props and role play wherein he won the Quidditch World Cup, knowing Oliver. Perhaps he'd make Katie dress up like a human Snitch.

"I mean," Alicia said, still looking at Katie in a sort of awed terror, "I know one night stands aren't your thing, Katie, but you can't be this embarrassed by someone_ normal_. Not with the amount of times I've fucked up my dating life. And Ange has-" There was a pause.

No one liked to mention that Angelina had dated one twin who had been murdered and somehow ended up dating the other a few years after. No one decent brought it up, anyway.

"Is it Ron Weasley?"

"Ron Weasley?" Katie said, wondering why on Earth that was Alicia's second guess of all people. "You think I'm having an affair with the guy who's dating Hermione Granger, war heroine?'

On second thought, that still sounded better then Montague.

"Is it Harry?" Alicia demanded, "It's Harry, isn't it? I think he always had a crush on you."  
"Harry _Potter_?" Katie said, even more surprised.

She paused. Well, perhaps that would be worse then Montague. The Boy Hero, cheating on his beloved girlfriend (who happened to have many older brothers) with his girlfriend's Holyhead Harpies teammate. Then she pictured Montague smirking at her at some pure-blood ball that Alicia had dragged her to, Flint and Warrington and all the rest giggling like buffoons, while he pulled her knickers out of a pocket. They'd be bright pink, a thong covered in lace, exactly the type of knickers a pure-blood girl wouldn't be caught dead wearing. In fact, a proper pure-blood witch probably wouldn't even_ recognize_ them as knickers. Montague had even commented on them, when he'd-

"I wish," Katie muttered out loud. "But Harry never had a crush on me," she said, clinging to the only part of this that was rational.

"Well it's got to be a Quidditch guy," Alicia said, and Katie schooled her expression into neutrality, "I know you too well."

"Maybe it's a Quidditch _girl_," Katie said.

Angelina chose this moment to open the front door, calling out greetings, a box of donuts in her hand.

She dropped her satchel onto the floor, taking in the knocked over stools, Katie and Alicia both on the floor, the sofa pillows and cushions askew, the bouquet of flowers taking up the entirety of the kitchen table.

"Who are the flowers from?" Angelina asked, putting down the donuts and righting the stools. "Have you two been brawling?"

"Katie's having a torrid affair with Ginny Weasley apparently," Alicia said, standing up and brushing off her pajama pants.

"Impossible," Ange said in a deadpan, "not unless we both are."

Katie giggled. It was kind of an unhinged sound. She needed a shower. She needed to burn her clothing from the night before. She needed someone to Obliviate her. And then Montague, before he could tell everyone.

"Haven't you heard?" Angelina said, "I'm collecting all of the Weasley's. Everyone says so." This was a little too close to the truth, and Katie stopped giggling. Angelina pulled out a copy of the prophet from her coat, and threw it on the counter. It was folded to a Rita Skeeter special, and the headline screamed _"Weasley's Floozy?"_ with a picture of George and Angelina juxtaposed with a picture of Angelina and Fred from the Yule Ball.

Katie and Alicia cried out together in dismay, and Angelina's face folded for a microsecond, before it straightened again.

"OK," Alicia said, "that's it. We're going full Muggle and getting branch."

"Brunch?" Katie corrected, feeling a stab of shame that she wondered if this meant that she was getting away with the flowers since Angelina's situation was so much more dire.

"Is that where we can get drunk in a socially acceptable way at eleven in the morning?" Angelina asked grimly, crumpling the newspaper article into a ball. Katie caught a glimpse of the words "social climbing mediocre Quidditch player" and "a clear fetish for brothers" before Alicia snatched it from Ange and binned it with some violence.

"Yes," Alicia said, "that's right. Samosas."

"Mimosas," Katie corrected absently. By now it was second nature for her to correct her friends without Muggle parents. Although with this thought, came a second, more intrusive thought about Montague not caring about fucking a Mudblood when his family was one of those inbred, moneyed pure-blood dynasties that lived in more than one family mansion, employed house-elves, and married a twenty-year-old virgin pure-blood witch.

She supposed she, like Rita Skeeter had accused Ange, was a fetish for Montague. It was an ugly thought.

"Great," Angelina said, "I would like to get drunk. Now. Alicia, get dressed."

"Yay!" Alicia said, throwing her arms in the air, "and then we can talk about painful revenge on Rita Skeeter and Katie's new mystery man. Whoever he is is so bad I think it should cheer us all up."

Well. There went her relief.

* * *

The second pitcher of bottomless mimosas was on the table between them, crepes mostly eaten, omelets getting devoured, scones covered in cream and jam, Angelina venting in a steady stream about her plans to get revenge on Rita Skeeter. It was more than a nasty article everyone could ignore. It was the mob Rita Skeeter still commanded, the way she could mobilize an army of angry people (mostly witches) against a person she so desired. Angelina had already been spat at by a wizard in the street and the article had just come out.

"Look," Alicia said, "it doesn't matter what anyone else says. We all know Fred would've been happy that you two are together. That's what's important."

"_Do_ we know that?" Angelina asked, pouring herself another glass.

"Of course," Katie lied. Truth be told, she wasn't so sure. Fred had loved his brother a lot, but Fred had never been big on sharing.

"I just," Angelina said, toying with her hands, "I just wish I _knew _that Fred wouldn't mind."

"He wouldn't," Alicia said immediately.

"That's right," Katie echoed. Not that she had any right to judge. Fred would be much madder at Katie for sleeping with the enemy. Everyone would be, when they found out.

The war had been over for four years, it was true. The guilty all imprisoned, allegedly. The dead buried. The "heroes," like Katie, had been awarded. But the hurt hadn't healed. The divisions remained. It was one of the many reasons she'd been so shocked to see Montague at that Muggle club in the first place, dressed like a rich Muggle boy, without his usual entourage of Slytherins sprinkled with a few ambitious, pure-blooded Ravenclaws.

"George feels weird about it sometimes," Angelina said, knocking back her drink. It was clear this was a painful confession.

"How so?" Katie asked.

"Has he said something?" Alicia said.

"No," Angelina admitted, "It's just...if we go somewhere I went with Fred, or-" she paused, frowning.

"Or?" Alicia prompted.

"That's a lot of flowers," Angelina said, as she looked over their shoulders.

"What?" Alicia said, confused, and they spun around, Katie's heart sinking when she saw their waitress making her way over, an enormous bouquet of red flowers of all kinds in her hands.

"Who's sending you all of these flowers, Katie?" Ange asked in a neutral tone.

"You don't know they are for me," Katie said, but it was a feeble deflection, they all knew it, and when their waitress stopped next to them, none of the girls were surprised.

"Which one of you is Miss Katie Bell?" she asked cheerfully.

"Me!" Alicia said, and when she made to snatch the card Katie stood up, yanked the card away, and made to run until she saw the look on her waitress's face.

"She's joking," Katie said shortly, "I'm Katie."

"Well you've just got these delivered," the waitress said, "lucky girl."

Her friends looked at her expectantly, at the ridiculous bouquet that had probably cost Montague thirty galleons, and Katie wondered if she was going to have to eat another card in public. How had he even found her here? And known not to use owl post?

"Oh come on," Alicia said, and Katie turned to her. "it can't be as bad as me and Ernie Macmillan."

Katie's jaw dropped.

"Ernie Macmillan?"

It was her fatal error. Angelina pounced, grabbed the card, ripped it open, and started to read aloud.

"Katie-"

"No, Angelina!"

"-it was a distinct pleasure to have your attention last night. I know it was your pleasure to have mine. Obviously."

"What an arsehole," the waitress said conversationally.

"Stop it, Ange!"

"Don't you dare stop reading that, Angelina Johnson!"

"Once your legs are working normally—god this guy is gross, Katie—why don't you let me know, and I can make sure they start shaking again?"

"This is disgusting," Alicia said, sounding delighted.

Katie had dropped her head into her arms on the table.

"Nice flowers though," the waitress said.

"I knew those Gryff—um-" Angelina darted a look at their Muggle waitress, "-those boys in your house at school didn't do it for you right. If you want a real man from Sly-" Ange cut herself off again, but it was too late and Alicia shrieked at the beginning of the word Slytherin. "Um, my house from school, send me your bra to match those knickers you left and I'll come find you."

"He wrote 'bra'?" Alicia asked with interest, knowing this to be a Muggle word and device.

"Er," Angelina said, eyes darting to the waitress again, as the note really said 'wired contraption breast thing,' "...yes. Until then, you'll have to content yourself with fantasizing about me and the best night of your life every ten seconds."

"The rich ones are always wankers," the waitress said regretfully, admiring the flower explosion again.

"Signed," Angelina said meaningfully, and Katie gave a piteous moan into her arms the same time Alicia squealed with excitement. "G.M."

"G.M?" Alicia said blankly.

"Katie," Angelina said severely, folding the paper up, and Katie groaned again. It was even worse then the first note. "Is this from Graham Montague?"

"WHAT?" Alicia screamed.

Katie raised her head from her arms. Alicia was clutching at her own face like she was the first victim in a horror movie. Angelina was looking at her like a disappointed parent.

"We'll need another pitcher of mimosas," Katie told the waitress grimly.

* * *

**Thirteen Hours Previously**

"Well I'll be damned," a man drawled over her left shoulder, "it's little Katie Bell."

Katie turned from the bar, irritated, wondering how it was she couldn't even escape to a Muggle club once every six months with her childhood friends without someone recognizing her. There were some distinct downsides to being a war heroine and friend of the great Harry Potter.

Katie opened her mouth to say she was hardly little, she was taller then most women she knew, and put some heels on her and she was taller than most men as well, when the words died in her throat.

Graham Montague stood in front of her. He was wearing a blue expensive looking Muggle jumper that almost matched his eyes, but certainly didn't match his usual pure-blood Slytherin act. She hadn't been this close to him since her sixth year, when he'd been Slytherin's Quidditch captain until Fred and George had shoved him into a Vanishing Cabinet and he'd come back with severe memory problems, spending the rest of his last year at Hogwarts in the hospital wing. It had seemed funny at the time.

"Oh, fuck me," Katie hissed through her teeth. How she was going to explain this to her Muggle friends who were curiously watching this exchange…

Montague shrugged.

"If you insist," he said, lifting up his drink and taking a sip. He flashed a smile at her for a half second that was more than a touch evil.

Sandra, her oldest friend from childhood, made a weird whimpering sound next to Katie, and Julia on her other side giggled like Montague was a master wit.

"Pass, thanks," Katie snapped, putting down her own drink with a thunk and crossing her arms. "Now piss off, Montague."

"Katie, don't be rude," Ruby said, "who's your friend?"

"We're not friends," Katie said, wondering who told Montague he was ever allowed to smile at her. Why would he think she'd want to talk to him, of all people? He had never been caught in Death Eater activities it was true, nor had his father, but that didn't mean he hadn't done anything. That didn't mean he didn't fund anything. That didn't mean he didn't agree with what they believed.

"That's true," Montague told her friends, "we're not friends. We've never been friends."

"What a shame," Julia said flirtatiously, taking in Montague's height, his muscular frame, his expensive clothes, his attractive face, if you cared about such superficial things. Sandra made another weird whimpering noise.

"No it's not," Katie said bluntly.

Montague grinned at her again. His eyes went over her quickly, and Katie fought the urge to cross her arms tighter. What she was wearing was not scandalous for a young Muggle girl, not in the slightest. But for witches, particularly pure-blood witches…Montague finished his perusal of her and her flesh on display and took another sip of his drink.

"So who are you, then?" Ruby asked with interest.

"Mortal enemies," Katie said through her teeth.

"Star crossed lovers," Montague drawled, "old school chums who were kept apart by silly childhood prejudices."

Judging by his deadpan tone and the evil light in his eyes and also by, oh yes, this was Graham Montague, Slytherin asshole who'd once grabbed her head and flipped her over her broom in a cartwheel mid-match to make her drop the Quaffle, Katie knew he was full of shit.

"How wonderful," Julia said, looking between them.

Montague was eyeing her bare legs again and it was making Katie wish for the appearance of the baggiest of robes.

"Katie," Ruby said, "is this the boy you had a crush on in school?"

"Absolutely not," Katie snarled, as Montague had met her eyes and smirked at that, and then looked down at the strip of her stomach showing between skirt and shirt.

"Are you sure?" Sandra said, finally finding her voice, looking Montague over in an even more lascivious way then he was looking at Katie.

"Yeah _Katie,_ are you sure?" he taunted her.

"You're thinking of Roger Davies," Katie lied brutally, the first person she could think of.

Really, Ruby had probably been thinking of Terence Higgs, much older Slytherin she'd had a crush on her first two years before he'd left school. Her Muggle friends were the only ones she'd felt safe confiding that in, knowing even at the time that Higgs was a Slytherin and that her harmless crush would disturb her Hogwarts friends.

Montague's smile dropped, and his nostrils flared like he was smelling a poor person or a Muggle. Which, he_ was_ currently smelling both.

"Roger Davies?" he said to her, "I thought you had taste."

"No, that wasn't it," Ruby said, frowning in thought.

Montague looked arrogant again. "Stop lying, _Katie_," he said to her, "you know it was me all along that you wanted."

"Terence, was that it?" Ruby said, and Katie felt herself die a little on the inside.

"_Terence Higgs_?" Montague practically shouted, "really, Bell?"

"Yes, that's who it was!" Ruby said triumphantly, before she caught wind of Montague's put out expression.

"Why not him?" Julia muttered, looking Montague over as well.

Katie sucked on her teeth, annoyed her that her friends were forcing her to repeatedly notice that Graham Montague was a conventionally attractive guy. He always had been, really, but since he'd been a Slytherin, and not a remote older Slytherin like Higgs, who'd played Seeker in a way that didn't involve cheating and graduated school when she was only thirteen, Katie hadn't ever let herself notice. Montague was a stupid asshole from Slytherin, and that's all he'd ever been.

"Because he's an arrogant wanker," Katie said coldly.

"You wound me," Montague drawled. "More drinks, ladies?" he initiated another round to the bartender, and Katie knew she was doomed. If there was one way that he could get her Muggle friends on his side it was free alcohol.

* * *

"Terence Higgs?" Ange murmured under her breath, clearly trying not to laugh.

"Wait wait wait," Alicia said, waving her hands, "you started out so well, Katie!"

The waitress, who'd pulled up a chair and whose name was apparently Edith, nodded sagely at this, while Angelina poured them all another mimosa. They were all now more orange juice and champagne then women.

"What went wrong?" Alicia wailed.

"Well," Katie said grimly.

* * *

She'd never been particularly great at holding her alcohol, and Montague had seemed determined to get her drunk. On the upside, her trio of Muggle friends had insisted on Montague matching them drink for drink, and they drank quite a bit more than Katie. That had ended with Montague flailing around on the dance floor with all of them, his blue jumper abandoned somewhere, a black t-shirt sweaty and gross on him as they all writhed around.

"God he's terrible," Katie said out loud, as Montague did a particularly unflattering move.

"He's lucky he's cute," Sandra agreed, and then she smiled slyly at Katie, "_you're_ lucky he's cute."

"Hardly," Katie said, as Montague did some weird kick move in Ruby's direction and then brayed with laughter as Ruby giggled and pointed in his face.

"He sounds like a donkey," Katie said, her head swimming a little bit.

"True," Sandra agreed, "he's got a good smile though."

Katie looked at the Slytherin boy in question who was laughing madly with her Muggle mates, and she tried to disagree, but Graham Montague, when he wasn't smirking or leering or being an arse, had a_ fantastic_ smile.

He executed an odd little pirouette move while holding hands with Julia, and Katie couldn't help it, perhaps it was the rum and cokes, but she smiled at his sheer, joyously awful dancing. Montague looked at her at this precise moment, and somehow they were smiling at each other, and the world hadn't imploded, a fissure opening up in the ground and releasing _her _friends and _his_ friends crawling on hands and knees, hissing how a Gryffindor and Slytherin smiling at each other had brought upon the apocalypse.

* * *

"What, are we demons now?" Alicia asked caustically.

"Shh!" Edith the waitress said, flapping her hands. "This is getting good!"

Angelina had added a Bloody Mary to their collection of alcoholic drinks and was still frowning at Katie with the exact same expression her father had had when she had told her cousin Wendy that the Easter Bunny wasn't real when they were eight.

Alicia rolled her eyes. "So we Gryff-" (she darted another glance at Edith) "—uh, house rivals in school are demons crawling up from hell to judge your smiling, got it. So then what? Montague won you over with his flailing? You thought, dear god, I've got to get a piece of that hot arse?"

Katie scowled. Alicia hadn't been there. She'd never seen Montague smile. Not truly. It wasn't something the pure-blood Slytherins did at them, Gryffindor Quidditch players.

"It wasn't just his smile," Katie said stiffly.

* * *

His disarmingly nice smile had thrown her quite a bit, Katie wouldn't lie. It had made weird things happen in her stomach, although she could definitely (and would) blame the amount of alcohol she'd consumed for that one. But worse then that, was the way Montague was willingly touching Julia while they twirled around each other, bumping elbows in each other's faces with their uncoordination, the way he was giggling like a schoolgirl with Ruby, the fact that he was in a Muggle club wearing Muggle clothes having fun with Muggles like this was a perfectly normal Saturday night for him.

"Why, exactly, have you not dated him before?" Sandra asked.

"That's not enough of a reason?" Katie said, gesturing at Montague doing the running man with Julia as a streak of sweat rolled down his forehead. God. What had she been thinking about him having a nice smile? He probably smelled like gym socks.

"What, a guy who's willing to look silly in order to have fun with your mates? After he's bought us a small fortune in drinks?" Sandra shot back. "A guy who looks like he's been modeling in magazines on his days off?"

"Days off from what?" Katie snorted, "spending his daddy's money?"

"So he's rich, too?" Sandra exclaimed. "Katie, love, what is the problem here?"

Montague was now doing some sort of weird three way dance move with Ruby and Julia that involved them holding hands and dancing in a moving circle.

"Graham clearly thinks you two have some sort of star crossed-"

"_Montague,_" Katie corrected stubbornly, "was being sarcastic, I assure you. He made my life and my friend's life hell at school. Our group of friends were enemies. I was being serious about that part."

"Well people grow up," Sandra said reasonably. "School was five years ago, Katie."

"He hasn't changed," Katie insisted, taking a sip of her drink. Montague brayed with laughter again, his whole face lit up like the sun when Julia attempted some sort of sexy move that ended with her falling over in a heap, snapping her dress strap off. "See?" Katie said as Montague pointed and laughed at Julia. "he hasn't-"

Montague helped Julia up, still laughing, then dragged her over to the bar, attempting to fix her strap.

"Another drink!" he shouted, "another drink, as your reward!" he found his discarded jumper that had probably cost him a hundred pounds in a Muggle shop (but what had he'd been doing in a Muggle shop at all) and then presented it to Julia, who pulled it on, laughing and red faced, to cover her ample cleavage that was threatening to escape from the half broken dress.

"You were saying?" Sandra said with a grin.

"Trying to cop a feel," Katie tried gamely.

"Considering how he was giving you the eye earlier I'd say he's more of a leg man," Sandra said.

"Sandra! Bell!" Montague shouted, "you need a refresher!" he held up two more drinks in their direction.

"Bloody excellent," Sandra said, making her way over.

"Traitor," Katie said halfheartedly, following reluctantly. It just wasn't fair. Montague had stolen all of her friend's affections. It hadn't even been difficult for him.

* * *

"Look," Edith said, "if you have a handsome guy who's buying me unlimited drinks, dancing with me without sticking his bone in my arse, and giving me expensive jumpers, I'm in too."

Alicia was yanking her own hair, it was now in wild tufts like she was pretending to be Hermione Granger for a Halloween party. "Are you telling me," she said, as Angelina chugged her Bloody Mary, "that Graham Montague, notorious snob, raging arrogant arsehole extraordinaire, willingly touched Mug-er, poor people, danced like a fool in public, owns jumpers, and acted like a gentleman to your Mug-er, poor friends?"

"Yes," Katie said, her own glass of mimosa now being slammed down her throat.

"Well alright," Alicia said, "It makes sense now. Poor girl. He tricked you. He does have a nice smile."

"Alicia!" Ange said loudly.

"I noticed seventh year," Alicia said regretfully, "he was helping some third year in his house with her book she'd dropped. He stopped smiling as soon as he saw me, of course. Told me to shove my broomstick up my arse but-"

"Your broomstick?" Edith asked blankly.

"Er...ahh...common insult at our school," Alicia said, "weird teenage thing."

Edith nodded thoughtfully. "We used to say pour a bucket of fish guts on your head," she said. "When I was sixteen. Don't ask me why."

"Graham Montague doesn't have a nice smile," Angelina said darkly, "is that really all it took, Katie, for you to forget those million times he was an arse?"

"You're leaving out the jumper story, that was cute," Alicia said.

"The horrible dancing," Edith added, "that's adorable."

"He was being nice to her friends! For ages!" Alicia piled on.

"And he spent a lot of money," Edith nodded. "Plus, you said he's handsome?"

"No," Katie and Angelina said as Alicia said "to be fair, yes."

"Alicia, stop making it worse!" Ange said, pointing her finger.

"Hey she could've hooked up with Bole," Alicia said, "it could've been a lot worse."

All three girls shuddered.

"So OK, Montague's dubious charm and money won you over," Ange said, and Katie could tell she was trying very hard not to sound judgmental, which she appreciated greatly. Even if Ange was failing.

"No, now hang on," Katie said indignantly, "that wasn't all it took."

* * *

Somehow they'd all ended up on the dance floor, Katie included, as much as she'd tried to avoid Montague and her writhing anywhere withing twelve feet of each other. She blamed it on that last rum and coke. It had clearly tipped her over the edge.

Katie had kept her wits enough to be the furthest of the four girls away from Montague. It shouldn't have been difficult, her friends were enjoying dancing with him a little too much. The odd dichotomy between her Muggle friends willingly touching Montague while giggling and the faces her Gryffindor girls would make in the same situation was breaking her brain. Angelina would have probably stabbed him with a cocktail stick by now.

* * *

"I would've done it hours ago," Ange said, "at first sight, in fact."

"And what about me?" Alicia said indignantly, "I wouldn't have stabbed him?"

"You're the one who says he has a _good smile_, if you recall," Angelina retorted

"That doesn't mean I want to shag the guy," Alicia said.

They both smirked at Katie.

"I would have shagged him," Edith shrugged.

"Thanks," Katie said.

"You've never met him," Angelina said darkly, "you don't know the depths of his arrogance."

A middle aged man in an apron was making his way over to them, scowling.

"Bollocks," Edith hissed, leaping up, "that's my manager."

"Tell him to stick a bucket of fish guts on his head," Alicia said unhelpfully, "we need you here."

"Gotta go," Edith said, "but I want to hear the rest of this later!" She made her way to another table with haste.

"So enough descriptions of the dancing," Angelina said.

"That's the best part," Alicia disagreed, "imagine Graham Montague, smug rich boy, flailing around with Muggles!"

"Enough of the dancing," Angelina repeated, "you're stalling. Get to the rest. We need to know if he used a spell or a potion on you."

"Get to the shagging," Alicia agreed.

"That's not what I meant," Angelina snapped, "we might have to tell Ron and Harry about this, make a statement to the Aurors..."

"Ange," Katie said, holding up her hand, "as much as I hate what happened, he didn't force me into anything. Stop that train of thought right now."

"You were drunk," Angelina persisted, "he was handing you drinks, yes? Maybe he-"

"No," Katie said, and god, why were her friends making this so much harder? Why were they making her spell it out in such excruciating detail? "I got the drinks from the bartender directly. I'm not stupid, Ange."

"Well maybe he-"

"NO," Katie said louder, "just listen, okay?"

* * *

"Dance with him Katie," Sandra whispered, trying to shove her at Montague, who chose that very unfortunate moment to finally pull out a dance move that was somewhat appealing. Okay fine, It had been sexy.

"No," Katie hissed back, pulling away. Sandra just laughed like Katie was the most ridiculous person she knew and went over to Montague instead, who grasped her left hand and spun her around.

"See Katie," she muttered sarcastically to herself, fully aware she looked like a loon, "see what you're missing out on."

Julia, ever the boldest of the girls, grabbed Montague around the waist, trailing her fingers up his abdomen with a laugh, while Montague's eyebrows flew up into his hairline. It had barely been a touch at all, and Julia had already moved away, but Katie knew that Montague had spent all of his recreational time around pure-blood witches, who priced their virginal status, faux or real, beyond all public displays of fun.

Montague made eye contact with her right when her mouth was twisting, thinking of pure-blood snobbery, and right when Sandra had taken her turn pawing at him. The smirk he leveled in her direction was the biggest Katie had ever seen grace his face. Great. Absolutely fabulous. Now Montague was going to think she was jealous. Ruby was now grasping at Montague and he wrapped his arm around her, looked back at Katie, and blew her a kiss with a wink.

"Ugh," Katie said out loud again, turning away sharply, bringing the remnants of her rum and coke to her mouth. She didn't know what was worse. Montague thinking she was actually jealous of her friends feeling up his body, or her friends groping Montague, snobby Slytherin arsehole wretch like they were in heat. What had gotten into them? Had Montague doused them with love potions?

* * *

"Aha!" Angelina said triumphantly," "I knew it!"

Alicia looked skeptical. "Ange they were just drunk and they didn't know what he's really like."

"Exactly," Katie agreed. She took the last bite of crepe to soak up all of the alcohol.

"Fine," Ange sighed, "allegedly he has a nice smile. Not that I've seen it."

"He does," Katie and Alicia chorused, both sounding so dismal about it it was if Montague was dying of dragon pox, not that he was in possession of a nice smile.

"So..._were_ you jealous?" Ange asked.

"Of what?" Katie said, astonished. "Of my friends getting bamboozled by Montague's fake personality and money? Hardly."

They had tried to be subtle about it, but Katie still saw her friends exchange a glance.

"I wasn't!" Katie said indignantly. "I'll remind you he was making one of those obnoxious faces he used to make mid match at us all the time. How could I possibly be attracted to that?"

"You just said he was smirking and blowing you kisses?" Alicia pointed out.

"Yeah?" Katie said, "like I said. It was giving me awful Quidditch flashbacks. I felt like he was about to elbow me off my broom."

"Hold on just a minute," Ange said, raising her hands up, palms vertical at Katie. "Are you telling me Montague used to blow you kisses during matches?"

Alicia had put her champagne flute down and was staring at Katie with wide eyes.

"Yeah," Katie said, entirely confused, "it was what made him so obnoxious. That and the sexual come-ons."

"What!" Alicia shrieked, so loudly the couple next to them jumped and Edith looked over, clearly longing to rejoin their gossip instead of delivering Bloody Mary's and bacon.

"Katie," Angelina said, severe again, "why didn't you tell the rest of us that Montague's been hitting on you for years?"

"What?" Katie said, her mind blank. "Because...I mean, I thought that was his thing? Flint cheats and tries to push you off your broom, Warrington cheats and tells you your mother fucked a donkey, Pucey cheats and tells you to go fuck a Hufflepuff, usually Smith, and Montague cheats and tells you your legs would look good wrapped around him instead of your broom—What?!"

For Alicia and Ange were staring at her like she was Dolores Umbridge mating with a centaur.

"Wait," Alicia said, "you're remembering wrong. Montague's the one who tells you to fuck Hagrid, _Pucey's_ the one who tells you to suck his-"

"No, no no," Ange interrupted, "Pucey definitely tells you to fuck a Hufflepuff, like Katie said, and Montague tells you to fuck Hagrid, like Alicia said. It's_ Warrington_ that tells you to ride his broom as hard as you ride yours."

The three women started at each other with identical expressions of disgust and dawning comprehension.

"Well," Katie said finally, "guess you two should avoid running into Pucey and Warrington in Muggle clubs and letting them ply you with alcohol."

Angelina whimpered.

* * *

Katie plunked the empty glass down on the bar.

"Another round," she said to the bartender.

"On me, luv," a man said over her left shoulder.

Katie turned and there were three Muggle men grinning at her. She opened her mouth, fully intending to politely decline, when "thanks" came out of her mouth instead. If Katie had eyes in the back of her head, she would've seen Montague looking their way, scowling.

"So what's a nice girl like yourself doing here alone?" the guy asked Katie, and normally, she would've rolled her eyes at such a cheesy line but she kept seeing Montague's obnoxious kiss-smirk and the way his eyes had roamed over her body.

"I'm not alone," Katie said, "I'm here with my friends." She gestured vaguely behind her without looking. "I needed another drink."

Her new companions followed her gesture, and all three of their cheesy grins dropped.

"Is that your bloke over there?" the man in the middle demanded.

Katie reluctantly followed the pointing finger although she didn't know why when it was obviously Montague at the receiving end. Sweat was dripping down his face and he was still surrounded by her friends who had suspiciously gone back to dancing like goof balls and not groping him now that Katie wasn't looking. Sweat was also making his shirt stick to his body and while Katie was mostly repulsed, parts of her tingled. Montague had the blackest of facial expressions. It was worse then the time they'd beat Slytherin in her sixth year, before Harry and the twins had pummeled Malfoy. Their banning had made Montague smirk again.

"No," Katie said, more than a little drunk, turning away from Montague's dark glare, "he's my mortal enemy. He's dancing with my friends though." She knocked back half her drink heedlessly.

"Oh yeah?" the first guy who'd bought her drink said. "What did he do to you, luv?"

"Well," Katie said with the animation of a drunk about to confess, when she saw that the second man's fists were balled, the man on the left was cracking his knuckles. In a rush, Katie realized the reckless mistake she'd made.

* * *

"Katie Bell," Alicia said, and the look on her face was just a little too delighted, "did you convince a bunch of Muggles to punch Graham Montague in the face?"

Angelina cackled, drinking her second Bloody Mary. Katie grimaced.

"Such is the power of those," Alicia said, gesturing at Katie's long legs beneath the table.

"Hardly," Katie grumbled.

"So your drunken sex appeal didn't get Montague beaten?" Alicia laughed.

"Well, I didn't say that," Katie admitted.

* * *

"Oh, nothing," Katie backtracked, as amusing as it would be to see Montague brawling with a trio of Muggles when he was posh and rich and stuck up, it would probably end with Montague in Azkaban for hexing Muggles. And as much as that would seem like karmic retribution she really didn't need it on her conscience. "I was joking," Katie said, "he's my...friend. Not my boyfriend."

"Yeah?" the second man said, his eyes still on Montague. He didn't look appeased. "You sure, luv? He's looking at you like he's your fella."

"Definitely not," Katie said. It would be safer to tell these guys that Montague _was_ her fella, the tiny sober part of her brain screamed at her. But even in this world where her Muggle friends loved rich happy doofy Montague, she couldn't bring herself to pretend that she, Katie Bell, Gryffindor, was attached to a jerk from Slytherin.

"Soooo," Katie said, slurring her words more than she realized, "what are your names, then?"

"Mitch," the first guy said, grinning at Katie, "this here's Tim, and that's Davey," he gestured to the second man, who was still glaring over at Montague with his chest puffed out. "And what's your name, luv?"

"Katie," she said, "and those are my friends Jul-"

"Bell," Montague said from over her shoulder, her name snapping like a wet towel in the Quidditch locker room, "what are you doing? We've been waiting for you."

Katie turned around to look at Montague, missing the way Tim and Mitch had now puffed up their broad chests as well at Montague's appearance.

"I'm getting another drink, _obviously,_" Katie drew out the "obviously" until it was about twelve syllables, the tones of a sarcastic drunk.

In the background, Ruby and Julia hadn't noticed what was occurring over near the bar, but Sandra was looking their way with trepidation.

"Well, why didn't you just ask me to get you one?" Montague said imperiously.

"We've got it covered, mate," Tim said aggressively, "she doesn't need to ask you."

Montague didn't even look at the Muggle men.

"I've been buying you drinks for the past two hours," he said to Katie, and the tone Montague was using was the Slytherin arrogant spoiled rich boy Katie knew and loathed, not this knew happy-go-lucky Muggle loving act he'd put on for her friends. "You should've asked me to-"

"Listen here, bruv," Davey said loudly, "she's not your bird, she said it herself, so clear off, yeah?"

Montague looked up from Katie's face slowly, and Katie felt a stab of alarm.

"I wasn't speaking to you," Montague said, and the cold dismissive condescension roiled off of him in waves.

The Muggle trio squared their shoulders, and Montague looked over them briefly before sneering in the exact way that Katie had expected him to sneer at her friends since she'd clapped eyes on him.

"Katie here wasn't speaking to _you_," Mitch said, "so feel free to piss off. Leave the lady alone."

"_Lady_?" Montague scoffed, and he looked over Katie, deliberately pausing at her tiny strip of stomach skin, her long legs on display. "This is what you call a lady?"

Katie wasn't surprised. This was what she'd been waiting for since she'd first seen Montague's odious face. However, her new Muggle men were not so generous, and Katie distinctly heard another cracking sound from knuckles behind her.

* * *

"Hold on just a minute," Ange said, "I thought we were progressing to you being completely drunk-"

"I mean she clearly was at that point," Alicia said.

"-and Montague growing more charming with his lies, and that's why you banged him like a beater's bat hitting a bludger-"

"Oh god, Ange," Katie yelped, shuddering with embarrassment.

"-but Montague's reverted to form, Katie! He's acting like a complete wanker!"

"She's still drunk," Alicia said unhelpfully. "Also-"

"If you say Graham Montague has a nice smile one more time, Alicia-" Angelina said threateningly.

"I wasn't going to!" Alicia said, "Actually, I was going to tell you to stop interrupting, Ange. We were getting to a good part and I want to hear how Katie's legs got Montague's face smashed in!"

"Who said his face got smashed in?" Katie said weakly.

Angelina and Alicia both turned to her from where they'd been arguing, making identical expressions of scorn at her. It was a bit like Hermione Granger finding out you'd gotten a T on an assignment after you spent a week hiding it from her.

"There is zero chance this story is not leading to Montague getting pulverized," Angelina said.

"Well..." Katie trailed away, then coughed. She grabbed her empty champagne flute to buy herself time.

"Keep going," Alicia said, "this is the most entertaining story I've heard in months."

"Didn't Percy Weasley just call Rita Skeeter an emotional vampire in front of half the Ministry?" Ange said, "while doing a mocking chicken dance?"

"Didn't Blaise Zabini ask Ginny on a date in front of Harry?" Katie added. "While Harry was holding Ginny's hand, in fact?"

"I said what I said," Alicia said, mouth full of scone.

"Well I'm glad I could be your entertainment," Katie said, because now that they were getting to it, she couldn't quite bring herself to tell the incriminating rest.

"Stop stalling," Ange said. Dammit. Her friends knew her far too well.

"Yeah," Alicia agreed, swallowing her scone and washing it down with mimosa, "and Angelina Johnson don't you dare interrupt her at a good part again."

"Fine," Katie said in the tones of one who'd just agreed to cut the toenails of a manticore. Or a Malfoy.

* * *

"I think you should walk away," Mitch said in a low tone, "my friends aren't as forgiving as I am."

Katie saw what was happening, comprehended it on some level, but she couldn't seem to respond correctly. Really, this was Montague's own fault for making sure she was intoxicated.

"Why?" Montague drawled, and he moved closer to Katie while she wondered what in the flying fuck was happening.

Why had Montague spent all night buttering up her friends only to revert to this raging arsehole at the last moment, right when she'd been starting to get tricked into believing his act? Right when she'd been noticing how sexy he could occasionally be?

"Back off, mate," Tim barked.

There was more squaring of chests. Montague was looking over the Muggles again with a look on his face reminiscent of Lucius Malfoy.

"Graham?" Sandra said anxiously. "Everything alright here?"

Katie saw the second Montague made a decision, and his facial expression relaxed a bit as he turned to her friends.

"Just trying to help Katie out," he said lightly, "some unwanted attention."

If Katie had been sober, as much as she hated to make it look like she was here with Montague she would've agreed he was her fella and scurried away with him and her friends to de-escalate a dangerous and ugly situation. Alas, Katie's brain was instead about half a drink away from making her dance on the bar and snog a random cute boy.

"Not unwanted," she snapped, moving closer to the Muggle guys, "_you're_ unwanted, Montague."

The Muggle men laughed, and Montague's blue eyes flashed dangerously, and his hand twitched toward his side, like he was about to reach for a wand.

"Let's go," Ruby said now, grabbing Montague by his left arm, "leave Katie here and let's dance some more."

"Yeah, go on," Katie said, waving her hand at Montague, getting some sort of sick satisfaction out of it. She'd not been surprised at Montague saying she wasn't a lady and looking at her like she was a cheap hooker, but it had hurt, just a little. Or maybe it had hurt a lot.

Montague's jawline, which some women might describe as delicious, was clenched tight.

* * *

"No one would describe it as delicious," Ange muttered.

"Angelina!" Alicia bit out, waving her fork like a sword.

"Sorry!"

* * *

Montague took a step back, closer to her friends and the dance floor, and the moment might have been saved, except Davey, the angriest looking of the men, grabbed Katie about the waist.

"Yeah, go on and we'll take care of your bird," he said loudly to Montague's back, as he'd already turned away, "we'll take turns while you occupy the ugly ones."

Katie only had time to raise her hands an inch to shove away the grabby Muggle, only had time to part her lips to indignantly tear into this jerk for insulting her friends and implying she'd be maybe participating in a foursome with some strangers, when Montague turned back and decked Davey in the face.

* * *

**End A/N:** Hilariously, this was meant to be a one-shot. Since it's me, I got carried away. Feedback is always appreciated!


	2. Never Share Chips with a Slytherin

**Author Note: I feel like I should warn everyone that this is a twisted rom com, that contains mildly fucked up themes and behavior.**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Never Share Chips with a Slytherin**

"_Montague _was the one who started fist fighting?" Alicia said explosively.

"Alicia," Angelina said, "don't interrupt the best part, remember?" she looked far too smug.

"But-"

"Yes," Katie said wearily, "Montague started it."

* * *

As far as she knew Montague hadn't been playing Quidditch for awhile, since his Seventh Year actually, and he'd lost quite a bit of his former Flint-esque bulk. But that only meant his muscles were leaner, more powerful. Davey fell backwards like a stone, his arm still around Katie, who was trying to shove him away even as she started falling too. Even mid fall Katie could see that Montague had then tried to immediately grab Katie and save her form the handsy Davey's clutches, leaving himself entirely vulnerable to Davey's two angry friends. Montague's hands closed on their targets a split second later with his Quidditch reflexes, the right on Davey's arm, trying to pry it off, and the left went to Katie's waist, trying to drag her to him like she was a damsel in distress. Which, to be fair, she currently was.

However, Mitch and Tim had only been stunned long enough for Montague to get his hands on Katie and Davey before they swung on him simultaneously.

"No!" screamed Sandra, and Katie found herself sprawled on the floor on top of Davey, as Montague staggered into another direction from the blows, her skirt riding far too high from the fall, regretting every life choice that had led her to this moment.

"Bloody wanker!" she heard Montague bellow in the direction of Davey as he tried to swing on Mitch before he was tackled by Tim.

"Leave him alone!" Ruby yelled, and Katie could hear the bartender yelling at them, could see out of the corner of her eye that Julia was trying to grab Mitch and Tim and get them off of Montague.

Katie tried to untangle herself from Davey but she was drunk and her reflexes sluggish, and she was also rather distracted by the fact that Montague was physically brawling with two Muggle men in order to...what? Defend her honor? After he'd just implied that she was a slut? But that made no sense. Katie squirmed, trying to fix her skirt.

"Leave it," Davey said in her ear, "looks better that way, luv. You've got great legs." His left hand was suddenly on her thigh, this total skeezeball who'd provoked Montague into violence and left his two friends to handle it while he groped an unwilling girl.

It shouldn't have been possible since he was punching and getting punched and kicked, but somehow Montague saw this. He threw Tim off him, swinging hard at Mitch.

"Get your hands off of her you rat bastard!" he shouted, "get off of her or I'll make you pay!"

Katie slapped the hand on her left thigh, twisting her body violently in a bid to escape. Her friends were trying to break up the three men fighting on the ground, and the bouncers were making their way over. She had to get out of this herself, before Montague lost his head completely at the sight of a Muggle fondling her and drew out his wand to break a dozen wizarding laws.

She wasn't even sure why Davey had made him so angry when Montague himself had said worse things about Katie a hundred times over. Perhaps it was his anti Muggle bias coming through; any Muggle daring to touch a witch instigated this weird white knight in him, regardless of the witch. That was probably it.

As Katie struggled, she saw Montague pin Tim, then receive a hit to the right jaw from Mitch that sent him rocking sideways.

"Let go," Katie said, "let go!"

"Take it easy, luv," Davey said in her ear, still not following simple directions and letting her go, "I'm not a-"

Ruby, Julia, and Sandra had tackled Mitch with their combined efforts, and the now cheering crowd was blocking security from getting to any of the combatants. Montague staggered to his feet as Katie pushed at Davey's arm again, and then raised his foot, stomping Tim on the ground.

"Let go of me!" Katie shouted again when she saw Mitch grab at her friends, swearing at them and calling them ugly, telling them to let him loose so he could tag team Montague again.

Montague stopped kicking and saw her still struggling with Davey, her skirt hiked up so high Katie prayed he couldn't see the tacky thong she'd worn because she was feeling feisty. Not only would he never let her live it down, but she had no intention of Graham Montague ever seeing her private parts, clad in hot pink lace or not. Katie had thought she'd seen Montague angry at least a hundred times at Hogwarts, but it was nothing compared to the murderous rage she saw all over his face now. A chill swept over her. What had caused this fury to possess him?

* * *

"Really, Katie?" Alicia said witheringly, "you_ really_ don't get why Montague seeing you insulted and pawed at by a handsy Muggle would make him angry?"

"No, I don't see it either," Ange said, "he just said she looked trashy not two minutes before. This is all very confusing. Maybe it's like Katie thought earlier, that he hates Muggles so much he doesn't want to see one touching a witch?"

Alicia sighed. "You two are so dense," she said, "it's like being friends with two men. Two Gryffindor men, even."

"Hey!" Ange said.

"I thought you didn't want any more interruptions?" Katie said. Now that the awful moment was incoming, she wanted to get it over with. Rip it off like a band-aid.

"Katie, darling, girlfriend of my soul," Alicia said, "Montague was obviously jealous."

"Jealous?" Ange and Katie said together.

"Hopeless," Alicia muttered, rubbing her temples with her eyes closed for a second, "yes, jealous. I'll grant you a Gryffindor boy wouldn't act like this. Or a Hufflepuff. Or a Ravenclaw. But when you factor in that the idiot is a Slytherin and that he's been blowing kisses at you and throwing come-ons your way for years, well..."

"He wasn't _blowing kisses_," Katie retorted.

"You said he was," Angelina contradicted.

"Well he was, but not the way you are insinuating," Katie said, "you're making it sound like he was flirting with me. It was a rude thing he did mid match to get me to drop the Quaffle. I mean he did it once when he was elbowing me in the ribs. How flirtatious was that?"

"Very," Alicia said while Angelina nodded with a grimace.

Katie was bewildered. Yes the night had ended with her knickers in Montague's flat, never to be worn by her again, potentially to be spun in the air like a lasso at a pure-blood ball in front of his mates. But she knew what had happened. She knew Alicia was wrong.

"No," Katie said, "I promise he wasn't jealous, so you'll have to think of a different explanation."

"I disagree,"Ange said, the traitor, "now that I think about it, Alicia's right, he was definitely jeal-"

* * *

"Get off of them," Montague hissed, blood pouring from a cut in his temple and his bottom lip, turning to Mitch who was grappling with Julia, Ruby, and Sandra as Tim whimpered on the ground, as Katie kept struggling with Davey. He grabbed the Muggle man from the clutches of the three women to restart their fight.

Katie stopped struggling for a moment in disbelief as her friends pinned Tim so he couldn't get up instead of helping her and Montague left her to the clutches of the arsehole on the floor in order to resume his battle of flying fists with Mitch. There were four of them. Couldn't at least one of them help extract her?

* * *

"Oh," Alicia said, "well then."

"Hmmm," Ange said, putting her chin in her hands, brow furrowed. "Well that's...I mean..."

"I told you," Katie said.

* * *

Her savior came from an unlikely source. Katie was trying to knee Davey in the balls with limited success as his hand kept grabbing at her leg, praying she wasn't drunk enough to lose her head completely and pull out her wand, getting sent to Azkaban. The sounds of Montague's fists wailing on Mitch and the cheers and whistles from the onlookers were ringing in her ears. Her friends were shouting to let the bouncers through, but Davey just wouldn't quit.

Katie felt a burly arm grab her, as Davey's arm got wrenched an angle it shouldn't go and he yelped, finally freeing her, even as his left hand remained on her thigh.

"Let the lady go," her savior said, his voice ominous. He didn't even wait to see if his command was followed, before he wrenched the hand in the same violent manner until Davey yelped, and her savior, who it turned out was the bartender, helped Katie to her feet like she was a rag doll.

"Thanks," Katie said breathlessly to the bartender. They had gotten accidentally intertwined due to Katie's being drunk and off-balance, and the force with which the bartender had extricated her from Davey. She'd been ordering drinks from him all night, and only now noticed he was young and rather cute, a pretty blonde boy who had tried to rough up his image with tattoos, muscles, and some piercings.

"Oi, that's my bird," Davey said as he got to his feet, swaying a bit. Montague had really rung his bell with the first hit.

"Piss off," the bartender said easily, as Katie stumbled and half fell on his chest in her haste to put more distance between herself and Davey, "get out of here before the coppers arrives."

She thought Davey would argue but it seemed he was a coward as well as a pervert and he pushed through the crowd to get away.

"You alright, luv?" the bartender said, as she was still leaning against his chest.

The very small part of her brain that was functioning at sober level screamed a danger threat code red at her. She was only half a drink away from snogging a cute boy, after all, and the bartender had just saved her. And she'd just noticed he was _very_ cute.

"Bloody hell, Bell!" she heard Montague say from five feet away, "I can't leave you alone for thirty seconds without you-" he was cut off when Mitch hit him in the face again.

* * *

"Aha!" Alicia said loudly in triumph, hitting the table. "I told you!"

Angelina nodded.

"He wasn't jealous," Katie said.

Why did they keep making her say it? Why couldn't she seem to lie? It would be a decent story if she could end it with Montague being jealous of her getting with Muggles and they fell in each other's arms as he admitted...what? What could he have admitted to make last night better? That he had feelings for her? That he wanted her to be his girlfriend? Katie pushed aside all of these pathetic thoughts.

"Tell me you snogged the hot bartender," Alicia said with glee.

"Of course she didn't," Ange scoffed.

Katie was silent.

"...right?" Ange said, her eyes widening. "I mean, you didn't, right Katie?"

"Well..." Katie squirmed.

"Oh my god!" Alicia yelped.

Edith looked their way with the deepest longing while her table yammered at her about coffee.

* * *

It was only half a drink, Katie thought in the drunken lizard brain, half a drink before she'd be allowed to snog a cute boy without judging herself. And it had been ages since Mark Collins. The bartender was still holding her. He wanted it, right?

"I think your fella's jealous," the bartender said, nodding in Montague's direction, but Katie was mesmerized by his lip ring.

"He's not my fella," Katie said for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

"Yeah?" the bartender said. In the background, they could hear the bouncers finally making their way through, breaking up the fight as the crowd groaned in disappointment. "Sure seems like it."

"He wishes," Katie mumbled, although she didn't believe what she was saying in the slightest. Montague would rather eat hippogriff droppings then date her, a Gryffindor Mudblood, friend of Harry Potter, girl who'd beaten him at Quidditch repeatedly.

"Lucky me," the bartender said, although he released her as he said it, perhaps realizing continuing to hold her when she'd gained her balance after she'd just been accosted by another jerk was a bad idea.

"Want my number?" Katie heard herself saying recklessly. She had no idea what had come over her. She didn't even like guys with tattoos.

"Bell," Montague snarled over her shoulder, "time to go. They're kicking us out."

Katie turned, annoyed, still vaguely horny. Her friends looked the worse for wear, hair tangled, makeup mussed, outfits askew and ripped. The enormous bouncers loomed right behind them. Montague had blood streaming down parts of his face, his shirt was partially torn, and his jeans had holes where before they'd been pristine. He was clutching his ribs with his left hand.

"Not you, luv," the bartender said to Katie, "I'm sure they aren't kicking _you_ out. You didn't do anything."

Montague looked, it had to be said, homicidal.

"Katie let's go," Ruby said, and she seemed mad, but really, they'd left Katie to a groper while they'd gone to save Montague, so who should be mad here?

"Do you have a pen?" Katie said, and the bartender grinned, pulling out a pad and pen from his back pocket.

"Bell, I said it's time to leave," Montague said, louder, "I pulverized those Mug—jerks for you. Come on."

Katie jotted down her number, feeling a sense of giddy impulse in her actions. Why not try a Muggle covered in tattoos and piercings? Had her usual taste, wizards who played Quidditch but weren't in Slytherin, ever worked out for her in the past?

"Just a minute, Montague," Katie said dismissively, and then she handed back the paper to the bartender. "Thanks for your help," she said, and maybe she should be embarrassed at how breathless her voice sounded, but she was too drunk to care.

"Bell," Montague growled, "stop flirting like a trollop with that-"

It was enough to tip her over the edge, and Katie moved forward, went to her tiptoes, and briefly kissed the cute Muggle bartender whose name she didn't even know. At least, she had intended it to be brief, but the bartender wrapped his arms around her waist and pushed his tongue into her mouth, and they started full on snogging.

* * *

"Yes!" Alicia said, triumphantly raising her arms.

Ange was rubbing her temples, her eyebrows drawn together, but her mouth twitching like she was trying very hard not to smile.

Katie giggled self-consciously. She was not particularly proud of anything she'd done the night before…but this part had at least been fun.

"But wait," Alicia said, after she danced in her chair for a while in victory, "how on Earth did you go from snogging a cute bartender six inches away from Montague's face to shagging Montague instead?"

The bartender was a surprisingly good kisser, and his tongue ring Katie was unaware about until it was in her mouth was a nice touch. Katie had no idea how far their snogging might have gone, or for how long, if they hadn't been interrupted.

"Oi, Nate, stop snogging pretty girls and get back to work," a man said from behind them.

The bartender (Nate, apparently) continued to kiss Katie with enthusiasm.

"Katie, we'll just leave you here," Ruby said sharply.

Perhaps it was delusional of her but Katie thought this was rather unfair. She'd made it clear to her friends that she hated Montague and they'd still forced his company upon her all night. And now that she'd finally let loose for once like they were constantly nagging at her to do and they were acting like Katie was being a bad friend.

"Nate, brother, I appreciate that she's hot, but Brenda is coming over now and-"

The bartender sprang apart from Katie before smiling regretfully at her.

"My manager," he said apologetically.

"Great," Montague said loudly.

Katie's drunk brain had almost forgotten he was there but took it as a forbidding sign that he'd been quiet so long while she snogged the cute Muggle.

"Now that you're reclaimed your tongue from a _complete stranger, _Bell, we can-"

"Thanks for all the drinks," Nate said cheerfully to Montague as Julia and Sandra each grabbed one of Katie's arms, steering her to the exit. Montague stood up straight, squaring up to the bartender, looking almost as angry as he had before punching Davey.

"Maybe you can afford treatment for your disease now," Montague sneered, waving a hand imperiously at Nate. For the first time, Katie noticed the giant, expensive looking ring on his finger which was most likely the ancestral Montague crest in gold. Git.

"Disease?" Nate said, confused, as the bouncers followed behind, forcing their group to leave.

"Your skin appears to be rotting!" Montague yelled triumphantly over the heads of the bouncers.

Everyone who overheard this was deeply confused except for Katie, who sighed.

"They're tattoos, you fool."

They had almost been shoved entirely out of the exit as the rest of the occupants of the club cheered and raised their glasses at them, thanking them for the entertainment while Mitch and Tim got to their feet, shouting threats after them.

"Call me!" Katie said loudly to Nate who grinned at her, pulling out of his back pocket the pad with her number on it, waving at her with a wink, and then they were outside in the alley with the bins.

"Call you what?" Montague said to Katie blankly, as useless as all pure-bloods when encountering Muggles.

"On the phone," Katie said, not able to resist maliciously teasing him.

"The...what?" Montague said with a frown. "Is that an insulting term I've never heard of? Call you onthephone? And what was wrong with his skin? Did you catch a disease tonguing him, Bell?"

The five of them were making their way out of the alley to the bustling streets beyond.

"Yep," Katie said dead pan, "I caught a skin disease and told him to insult me. Onthephone. A vile slur."

Montague squinted at her, clutching his ribs again, clearly trying to determine if she was employing that dastardly Slytherin weapon, _sarcasm_, or not.

"Graham, are you all right?" Sandra said with some alarm.

All three of her friends look worried.

"How hard did they hit you in the head?" Ruby added. "Do you have a concussion? Do we need to get you a CAT-scan?"

"A what?" Montague said, the baffled expression probably further convincing her friends his skull had been damaged.

He looked to Katie for help.

"Why do we need to...scan," he said scan in the same tones Hermione Granger would pronounced Crumple Horned Snorkack, "...a cat?"

"Oh dear," Julia said, and all of her friends were fluttering around Montague like concerned mother hens now, "I think we need to get him to a hospital."

"How are your ribs?" Sandra said trailing her fingers over Montague's side he was holding. He winced. There was still a faint trickle of blood coming from his left temple.

"I don't need to go to a hospital," Montague snapped, swatting at her friend's hands. "I'm not letting some Mug-er," he looked again at Katie in furious desperation, clearly hating to be relying on her for translation, where she was getting so much smug joy from it.

"Doctor," Katie said helpfully

"Right," Montague said, "I'm not letting some_ doctor,_" he said it like Draco Malfoy saying "Potter" mid match, "touch me."

Even though the brawl had beaten Montague's fake friendly act away her friends were generously attributing it to a head wound and didn't seem deterred.

"Graham," Ruby said, "you're not remembering basic things. I'm very worried about your health."

"He's fine," Katie said, rolling his eyes, "he's joking. He knows tattoos are ink pictures people put on their skin, that a phone is how we talk to other people in other homes, and that a CAT scan is a machine that checks your brain for injury, _right, Montague_?"

"Of course," Montague said stiffly, "just a joke."

"Stupid joke," Sandra said, and Katie wondered if this was the moment her friends came to their senses and saw through Montague, "we were worried for you."

There was a pause. Katie knew Montague's facial expressions well enough to know that he was seconds away from insulting Sandra in the cruelest of terms. They accidentally made eye contact. Katie's eyebrows raised in a challenge.

Montague scowled at her. Then took a deep breath, turning to Sandra with a smile.

"My apologies," he said finally, "I've been told I have an odd sense of humor."

"Or no sense of humor," Katie said.

Montague turned to her with a glare, and opened his mouth.

"Whatever," Julia cut him off, "I'm starving. Let's get some food."

"It's near two in the morning," Ruby pointed out, "what's going to be open?"

The three girls started discussing options walking away briskly, leaving Katie alone with Montague for a moment. They glowered at each other.

"You can go home now," Katie said shortly.

"And miss the next six Muggles you throw yourself at like a slut?" Montague sneered. "Hardly."

* * *

Alicia gasped, her hand going to her mouth which Katie thought was a bit rich, since the Slytherin boys had been insulting them in similar ways for years.

"Katie," Angelina groaned, now taking her turn at yanking at her own hair, "how, how_ how_ did you end up sleeping with him after that?"

"I don't know, OK?," Katie said despairingly. "That's why I'm telling you the whole story in detail, so you can figure out what's wrong with me and get me fixed at St Mungo's so it doesn't ever happen again!"

"Oh, Katie," Alicia said sadly.

Somehow the pity was worse.

* * *

Katie dearly wanted to hex Montague into the pile of putrid ooze he was, but as there were Muggles everywhere around them, she had to settle for doing things the Muggle way. Montague's head rocked back from her slap, opening up the cut already on his lip. Her friends continued on looking for a dive to eat in obliviously.

Montague spat out a wad of his precious pure-blood on the ground.

"Oh yeah, sure Bell, slap the guy who bought you and your friends drinks all night, the guy who gave one of your friends his six hundred pound jumper, the guy who danced and entertained your friends for hours, the guy who got into a fight because some Muggles called your mates ugly and said they would take turns fucking you. Slap _me_, and not the Muggle groping you. Snog some bloke just for helping you stand up. Perfect Gryffindor logic."

"Why do you even have a Muggle jumper?" Katie said, ignoring the rest. "How do you even possess Muggle money?"

"Never mind how," Montague said roughly. He wiped at his bloody lip, and Katie watched and felt a weird twinge low in her body again. She knew she should've just stayed and snogged the bartender. Get this out of her system instead of letting herself find Montague attractive in the slightest.

"Katie! Graham!" Julia bellowed, gesturing at them from far ahead, "we found a burger place!"

"Just go home, Montague," Katie said, "I don't know what game you're playing and I'm tired of it."

"I'm hungry," Montague said obstinately, "beating off your many Muggle suitors is tiring work," he pushed past Katie to join her friends walking to the dive.

* * *

Alicia and Ange exchanged another look.

"What?" Katie asked, "_what_?"

"Nothing," Alicia said in a too innocent voice, "keep going, Katie."

They were all half-way through their burgers when it became crystal clear that food wasn't enough to stop Montague reverting to his real asshole of a personality in front of her friends. It was a relief for her friends to know the truth; that Katie hadn't been lying about what an arrogant condescending prick Montague was. It was certainly, under no circumstances, a disappointment.

"Hmmm," Ange said maddeningly.

She and Alicia exchanged yet another look, "stop that," Katie snapped, "I know what you're thinking."

"Do you?" Ange asked neutrally.

"I wasn't disappointed," Katie said hotly, "I wasn't!"

"Hmmm," Alicia said, "No comment."

"_I wasn't_!"

* * *

It had started when the Muggle behind the counter questioned Montague's state of disarray and blood, and Montague had told him he was lucky to even receive his business. Ruby's eyebrows had flown up. It had gotten worse when after they all ordered and Montague pulled out an enormous wad of Muggle money, peeled off a fifty pound note, and told the cashier it was for his order only.

"I've spent enough on you all already," he sniffed.

Sandra's face had darkened at the disdain in his voice.

While they waited for their food, Montague looked around the diner and started insulting the décor. Julia, ever the sweetheart, had started questioning Montague on whether he was_ sure _he hadn't received a head injury or not.

"No," Katie said, "I told you. This is just how he is. He's a dick."

Montague smirked at her, although Katie didn't know if it was because he was enjoying dropping his act and letting down her friends, or because she'd just used "dick" in a sentence that had him in it. Either explanation was likely.

Montague had further soured Julia against him by asking for his jumper back when their food arrived so she wouldn't spill food on it. Julia flung it as his head a little harder than necessary, adjusting her broken dress so her cleavage wouldn't spill out.

Montague looked at Julia's tits for more than a glance.

"Looks better," Montague shrugged, taking a bite of his burger and Katie saw Ruby's hand twitch like she wanted to slap him.

"I told you," Katie said, before taking a bite of her own burger.

The last straw, however, had come when the burgers were almost eaten, and Montague had asked what they were going to do to repay him for the fun night.

"Repay you?" Sandra asked blankly, "for what?"

"I'm a highly eligible bachelor," Montague informed her, eating a chip, "Bell can tell you. I've got a line of witch – _women _waiting for the chance for me to escort them somewhere. And you three got me for hours. So how are you going to repay me for the honor?"

"The _honor_?" Ruby said, her voice rising.

Julia was stuck on another point. "What exactly do you mean, _how_ will we repay you?"

"I'm not picky," Montague said, shrugging, "I don't care which one of your flats we go back to."

"What?" Sandra cried, clearly trying not to believe what she was hearing.

"I can handle all three of you," Montague said, as if that was what was bothering Katie's friends. "Not to worry. My stamina is excell-"

But the fourth person of the night had hit Montague in the face, and he fell a little sideways from the force of Ruby's blow. Katie heard a cracking sound come from the direction of his ribs.

"You bloody pig," Ruby hissed, and Katie's friends were standing.

"Katie, we're sorry we didn't believe you," Julia said. "Let's leave this insufferable monster before he starts fellating himself."

"You wound me," Montague drawled, eating a chip.

Katie remained sitting.

"Katie," Sandra said, her eyes big, "come on. Why are you still sitting there?"

Montague grinned at her, more than a little slyly. "Run along," he said highhandedly to her friends. "Bell's still eating."

It was true that she was, but her three friends had still been eating too and were willing to leave the rest of their food to escape Montague's tainted airspace.

"I can't leave him here alone," Katie said calmly as her friends stared at her in disbelief, "I think Ruby just cracked his ribs. I've got to get him to a hospital."

"Fine," Sandra snapped, making to sit back down, "Ruby, Julia, you leave. Katie, I'll keep you company with this arsehole."

"Don't bother," Katie said. Her voice was calm, but her heart was beating wildly for some reason. "No need for you to suffer his presence anymore. I'm used to him."

It was a testament to how obnoxious Montague was acting that it didn't take Katie long to convince her friends to leave, then suddenly she was alone. With Montague in a Muggle burger dive at two in the morning. While he was wounded and covered in blood.

"Well, well, well," Montague grinned.

"Well what?" Katie snapped.

"I knew you were just counting the seconds till you got me alone, Bell," Montague said, taking a sip of his soda.

She didn't know how it was possible for one man to be so self-assured. His hair was messy from the fight (although oddly, it looked better this way) his face had blood all over it, his shirt was torn and dirty and so were his jeans, yet Montague was acting like he was a Greek god sent to Earth.

"Your mother didn't spank you as a child, did she?" Katie asked wearily, eating some chips.

Montague's smile dropped.

"Don't talk about my mother," he said coldly.

"I'll talk about who I like," Katie said, "especially after you just propositioned my friends like a Neanderthal."

"A what?" Montague scowled, "Is that another Muggle thing?"

"No," Katie said, "crack a book sometime."

"So how long have you been planning to get rid of your friends to get me all to yourself?" Montague said, ignoring her last comment.

"How long have _you_ been plotting to get rid of my friends?" Katie retorted.

"I don't know what you mean," Montague drawled, "I was looking forward to the prospect of trying out some Muggle women in bed."

"You mean you were looking forward to losing your virginity?" Katie asked with poisonous sweetness.

"Well we know _you_ aren't looking forward to the day you lose yours, Bell," Montague said, "since it happened so long ago you can't remember to whom. And how many guys have followed."

Katie sighed. "It's true," she said, "I've lost count about a hundred men ago."

A muscle jumped in Montague's jaw. He paused, chip suspended in mid-air on the way to his mouth.

"All those times with the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team," Katie said regretfully, "after we all waited for you to disappear to wank in your dorms to pictures of particularly feminine centaurs. I mean they lasted about four seconds each, but still, that counts, right?"

"Funny," Montague said, "hilarious, Bell."

"I'm very amusing," Katie said, eating some more of her burger. This place might be greasy and fluorescent, the pictures of food on the walls faded, but the food was quite good.

"I was referring more to the fact that you're flinging yourself in desperation at Muggles with skin diseases and metal pieces holding their skin together."

Katie rolled her eyes upward to the ceiling.

"It's called piercings and tattoos, Montague. It's a style."

"And you find that attractive?" Montague said acidly.

"Not as attractive as pure-blood witches dressed in white at debutante balls like calves on display for ritual sacrifice I'll grant you," Katie said, "or the way the black robes on the men really sets off their Dark Marks. Which, by the way, are a kind of tattoo," she said the last word with exaggerated sarcasm.

"You're so entertaining Bell," Montague drawled, but the muscle was jumping more in his jaw, "accusing me of being a Death Eater."

Katie opened her mouth to offer another pithy retort before she realized Montague was turning over his left forearm to show her the unmarked skin.

"They've faded," Katie said shortly, "since he's been dead. So that doesn't exactly prove anything, does it?"

"I'm not a Death Eater," Montague said through clenched teeth.

"I wasn't saying you were," Katie said. She hadn't been. Not really. If she truly thought Montague had ever been a Death Eater she never would've spent the night in his presence, no matter what her friends did or said.

"Good," Montague snapped. "Because I'm not. I never was."

"Anyway," Katie said, feeling a twinge of guilt she desperately wanted to run away from, "you should've just let me snog Nate. If you wanted me out of the way to get some bizarre foursome with my Muggle friends."

"I suppose I should've," Montague said, his expression clearing to something unreadable again, "my mistake. Run back and beg him to shag you, Bell. I'm sure that's worked for you before."

"Every Saturday night," Katie quipped.

* * *

"Would you stop that?" Katie exploded.

Ange and Alicia turned from where they'd been giving each other a look for the millionth time.

"Sure," Alicia said, "when you admit to the fact that Montague is jealous and has been flirting with you for years."

"Merlin's pants, are you two blind?" Katie said. She took another drink for strength. "He enjoys tormenting me. It's a game. That's all it is. Why else is he sending me these ridiculous flowers with crude notes?"

"Yeah," Ange said, "absolutely no other explanation then him playing a game to torture you. Ten points to Gryffindor."

"Oh, piss off," Katie said. She was drunk again. How had that happened? Had she ever stopped being drunk?

"So you two are exchanging banter," Alicia said, clearly fighting a smile, "and then you-"

"We're not exchanging banter," Katie snarled. Her friends didn't get it. They weren't there. This wasn't flirting. It had been rude, and ugly, and full of low blows. Typical interaction with a Slytherin. "Would you say we exchanged banter with Flint in school?"

"Oliver did," Alicia mumbled.

"It wasn't banter," Katie repeated, "it was attempted annihilation on both of our parts!"

* * *

"Should've known," Montague sneered, "you've got that frequently ridden look to you."

"I'll have you know I do the riding," Katie said blithely, "after watching you Slytherins on brooms like I'd trust you to do anything correctly. Also, y'know. The four second thing."

Montague had a flush to his cheeks that was probably alcohol related. Or rage. Katie would buy rage.

"Well put up a sign," Montague said, "offer your services to Muggles in need. Get your fix that way."

"_You_ seem in need," Katie said, "look at you. Hanging out with your Mudblood enemy and some Muggles all for a chance to lose that pesky virginity!"

"That's been taken care of quite a while ago, Bell," Montague said, eating another chip after glancing at the newspaper it had come on with scorn.

"What, two months ago in Madam LeRoux's?" Katie said, widening her eyes in faux innocence, "I've heard the prices are steep, but if you're as desperate as I'm sure you were..."

"You think I have to_ pay _to get in bed with a woman?" Montague snapped.

"I mean, isn't that what you admitted to trying to do with my friends?" Katie pounced. He'd walked right into that one.

"I assure you Bell," Montague said, "that I've got a waiting list."

"Of what, witches you're willing to use a love potion on?" Katie said, "I don't doubt that. Am I at the top?"

Montague's cheeks were even redder.

"Of most annoying witches I know? Definitely," he said. "Of witches I want to shag? You don't even make the first cut."

"Then go fuck off," Katie said, wagging her hand in a circle at him, "go find the desperate Slytherin half-blood you're willing to pay and leave me alone in peace."  
"I'm still eating," Montague said, taking a huge bite of burger to demonstrate.

"Well, so am I," Katie said, tearing off an even bigger bite.

They glared at each other while chewing. It took some time.

"What are you still doing here?" Montague asked.

"I told you, I'm eating," Katie said indignantly, "I need to soak up this alcohol or I'm going to wake up hungover."

Montague looked at her in disbelief.

"What?" Katie snarled.

"You're a witch," he said, enunciating his words like Katie was especially slow, "I know you're barely one, but still. Just take a sober-up potion before bed."

"I don't have one," Katie admitted. She wasn't a big drinker in general and she'd had no intention of getting drunk tonight so hadn't thought to buy one. "And all the stores in Diagon Alley are closed by now I'm sure."

"I've got an extra one in my flat," Montague said with a shrug.

* * *

Alicia shrieked, actually _shrieked,_ and a nearby table of middle aged women glared at them.

"Sorry," Alicia said, waving her fingers at them, "girl talk, y'know."

Two of the women nodded in understanding.

"Katie," Ange hissed, "how drunk were you? You actually fell for the 'come back to my flat for something' con?"

"No one said I fell for that," Katie said, "give me a little credit, would you?"

"I don't need it," Katie said, she ate another chip, swallowed, and drank some water. "See? Perfectly fine."

It didn't occur to her until later what Montague had just attempted to do. If it had, perhaps she could've avoided her second biggest mistake. The first, of course, was not just storming out of the club when she'd seen his smug chiseled face to begin with.

"So what are you still doing here, Bell?" Montague repeated.

"Maybe you do need a CAT scan," Katie said, "I just told you a minute ago."

"I don't believe you," Montague said bluntly, "as for the food, you could've left with your mates and stopped somewhere else. And don't tell me Spinnet or Johnson don't have a hangover potion leftover. Especially Spinnet. She probably has a hundred of them. Come on."

* * *

"Hey!" Alicia said indignantly, "he was insulting me and I wasn't even there, are you kidding me?"

"_Do_ you have a hundred sober-up potions?" Ange asked.

"Not a hundred!" Alicia said. "I mean, twenty at most! Which I _would've _given you, he's right about that at least. You better have defended me to him, Katie Bell!"

* * *

"How do you even know I live with them, Montague?" Katie asked. Skipping past the insult to Alicia, "Stalker much?"

"Like anyone can avoid the sickening golden Gryffindor hero coverage in the press," Montague said, but he had shifted a little before he said it, like he was hiding something.

"Well it helps if you don't read every article, tear them out, mount them on your wall, and snog the pictures," Katie said.

"Thanks, I'll let Wood know," Montague retorted.

Katie grinned. "Oliver wouldn't notice a picture of any of us unless we'd charmed ourselves gold and painted "_Quidditch World Cup_ on our stomachs."

Montague grinned, a genuine grin that seemed to burst forth against his will.

"Same with Flint," he said, "unless it was Potter of course. Potter and Wood, his mortal enemies."

"Harry was convinced Flint was part troll," Katie said, "he had a whole theory and everything how it had happened. We tried telling him human/troll hybrids were impossible but..."

"It's possible Flint was the first," Montague said, still grinning, "he never did push-ups or anything and his arms were the size of my head. His brain on the other hand, was the size of a snitch."

Katie would blame it on her being half drunk still, but she started laughing. She couldn't help it. There was something so hilarious to her about eating in a Muggle dive at 2 AM with a bloody and disheveled prince of Slytherin, making fun of their old captains together.

Even weirder, Montague started to join in her laughter, before he clutched his ribs again with a wince. Katie took pity on him for once.

"That's why I stayed," she said, waving a chip at Montague's left side that he was clutching, "I was telling the truth. I mean, sort of. You need to get those ribs fixed."

"I'm fine," Montague said after a pause where he'd looked at her with a strange expression. "If it keeps up I'll go to St Mungo's."

"Or you could get it healed by someone who got an 'O' in their NEWT level Charms," Katie said.

"Yeah?" Montague said, "is this some weird Gryffindor charity?"

"Well," Katie said, "you did punch some gross guys for me. I suppose I want us to be even."

"OK," Montague said. It had taken him awhile to say it. He'd paused to drink his soda for a minute or two, "so come back with me to my flat and I'll trade you some healing charms for that sober-up potion."

"Why?" Katie said blankly, "I can fix it now."

"In front of Muggles?" Montague said in disbelief, "Are you daft, Bell?"

"I'm not coming back to your flat," Katie said, "god knows what kind of dark magic traps you have for unsuspecting innocents like me."

"Ha aha. Ha. Ha. Ha," Montague said sarcastically, "it's a normal flat, Bell. I didn't invite you to my family mansions."

"No, of course not," Katie said, "god forbid the Muggleborn sets foot in the dens of snobs and evil." She had noted that Montague had stressed the plural of mansion and felt queasy. God he was gross.

"I live alone, unlike you," Montague said, and Katie didn't even flinch at this dig at her financial state that had made her live with two of her mates. What did he know, anyway? She'd just worked up to first string and for now, the three of them were having fun living together.

* * *

"That's true," Alicia said, "we are having fun. Although thanks for nothing for not shutting down Montague's insult of me."

"Katie," Ange said, and she was rubbing her temples again, "you know that wasn't a dig at your poverty, right?"

"Of course it was," Katie said.

"He was telling you to come over and fuck him," Alicia said bluntly, "duh."

"He was sneering at my poverty, I'm telling you," Katie insisted. "You weren't there."

"Oh Katie," Alicia said, putting on a ludicrous posh accent in the vague sound of a man's voice, "I've been beating up men all night and buying you drinks to get you drunk. Then I peeled you off a cute boy you snogged-"

"No he didn't!" Katie said indignantly. "Nate's manager was coming over and-"

"Then," Alicia continued, still aping Montague's sneering tones, "I was a total cock to your friends until they left us alone and now I'm telling you to come over my flat, _since no one else lives there_, so I can shag your brains out."

Alicia and Angelina looked smugly at Katie. She deflated.

"So I _did_ fall for the 'come to my flat' trick," she whimpered.

"Yup," her traitorous friends chorused.

* * *

"Well bully for you," Katie said, "do you want a gold star? A cookie?"

"Just come on," Montague said, "I'll amaze you with my splendor and wealth and you can fix my ribs. Your friend Ruby really frosted my cake with that last slap."

"Dammit," Katie said , "now I want a cake," she looked wistfully (and a bit drunkenly) out of the window.

"I'll get you a cake," Montague said casually, and his patrician fingers were playing with his straw, his stupid giant family ring glinting in the fluorescence.

"Let me see that," Katie demanded, and suddenly she was half holding Montague's hand as she inspected the ludicrous ring that was probably worth more than her parent's home.

Montague withdrew his hand, which had dried blood at the knuckles.

Katie felt weirdly insulted, assuming he didn't want her Mudblood touch, until he took off the Montague crest and handed it to her.

"Like it?" he asked.

"No," Katie said brutally, turning it in the light this way and that, "it's huge and tacky." She flipped it over to see if there was an inscription.

"Well women don't wear them," Montague said nonsensically. "My mother, she wears-"

"Oh, _now _we're talking about your mother?" Katie said.

"No," Montague said, his eyebrows drawn together again in irritation. He leaned forward and snatched the ring from Katie's hand, brushing his fingers across her palm as he took the ring. "Merlin, Bell, can't you ever not snipe at me for even one second?"

"Nope," Katie said. She was surprised Montague was admitting defeat like this, but she supposed the power of her snark was overwhelming to most. She chewed the last bite of her burger with satisfaction.

"Finally," Montague groused, "I thought you would eat that for the next two hours. Let's get out of here."

"I want a milkshake," Katie said, "a chocolate one."

Montague groaned, putting his head in his hands for a second, then standing up with vigor. "Fine," he said, and then made his way to the counter to get her a milkshake.

Katie ate her chips with diligence while she waited, and when Montague returned, she accepted the milkshake.

"You could've bought us all dinner," Katie said ungratefully, "after you got to dance with my friends all night. The pleasure of our company and all that."

"I didn't get a lot of pleasure from it," Montague said, gesturing at his ribs.

"Well who's fault is that?' Katie shrugged. "Maybe if you had kept lying to the rest of them about what you're really like one of them would've snogged you. You have no one to blame but yourself."

"True," Montague said, "they did seem to enjoy touching me. Tell me Bell, are all Muggle woman so forward?"

Katie sighed.

"Please grow up and get over your Madonna/Whore complex, Montague."

"My what?"

"Your belief that all women are either pure little virgins then motherly figures or whores, with nothing in between. God, it must be dull to be a pure-blood."  
"It is," Montague said shortly, and Katie paused in drinking her milkshake, sure she'd misheard.

"It is?" she repeated.

"Of course it is," Montague said, "what do you think I was doing at that Muggle hell-hole tonight?"

"I dunno," Katie said, "I did think it was weird to see you there."

"Well I couldn't take another Saturday night of 'take the debutantes to a ball' or 'drinking two-hundred year-old fire-scotch with the menfolk' in the most uncomfortable robes known to man."

"Is that all you do?" Katie asked with some interest. She knew pure-bloods of course, but not the ancient wealthy ones that populated mostly Slytherin.

"I left out charity balls that cost more to host then the money that gets raised to make yourself look philanthropic," Montague said "and dinner parties where everyone reminisces about the good old days and curses the dying culture of pure-bloods."

Katie felt intrigued against her will.

"So how'd you go from that to obtaining Muggle money and clothes in order to go clubbing with random Muggles?" she asked, dipping her second to last chip into her milkshake.

"Ew, what are you doing?" Montague said, staring in revulsion at her.

Katie dipped her last chip as well, and held it out to him in offering.

Montague took it from her, and brought it to his mouth skeptically. It had barely made it past his lips when his facial expression changed completely.

"Good, right?" Katie said, and then Montague stood up. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"We need more chips," he said after ascertaining she still had half a shake left.

* * *

"You know, your faces are going to get stuck that way," Katie said waspishly as Alicia and Angelina made more meaningful faces at each other.

"Sorry," Alicia said with unconvincing innocence, "go back to the part where Montague is confiding in you his disgust with pure-blood culture while you two feed each other chips you've dipped in your milkshake."

"We weren't feeding each other," Katie said, "I didn't put it in his mouth-"

Angelina cackled around her Bloody Mary.

* * *

They had made it through half of the fresh chips, their hands occasionally brushing, before Katie pressed the issue.

"You haven't explained how you managed to end up in the club tonight."  
"Probably the same reason you were," Montague shrugged, "this is spectacular, Bell. I'm sad I've gone this long without trying this."

"Wait till you try pizza," Katie said, "it will blow your mind."

Montague paused, and looked up from his milkshake covered chip at her. "You'll have to take me to the best place," he said casually, "to get this...peet-zah."

"Yeah sure," Katie said, agreeably, her head still spinning the tiniest bit from the rum and cokes, "I know a place in Clapham."

"Sounds great," Montague said, "maybe next weekend?"

"I don't think I'm busy," Katie said, trying to remember if she had a practice match, or plans with friends.

"Well, whenever you're free," Montague shrugged.

* * *

This time it was Angelina who shrieked.

"What now?" Katie said wearily.

"Oh nothing," Alicia said, "only, I imagine she's reacting to the fact that you've got a date with Graham Montague planned for next weekend."

Katie opened her mouth to object, then ran back what she'd just told her friends what had happened the night before.

The second it dawned on her Angelina and Alicia smirked in tandem.

"I realize it looks like I have a date with Montague next weekend," she attempted gamely.

"It doesn't _look like_, you do," Ange snorted. "You're taking him out in Muggle London for pizza."

"OK," Katie said, putting down her fork. Her eye caught for a second on the red flower explosion and the crude note Montague had attached to it, and she gained confidence. "I get it. It looks like Montague has been flirting with me for years and I obliviously encouraged him and now he's got a thing for me. That's what you're thinking, right?"

"I mean, that's reality," Alicia said, putting her head in her hands with a weird sigh, "It's kind of disgusting, kind of romantic."

"If you knew the rest," Katie said, "you'd know you were wrong, and I was right."

"No chance," Alicia snorted, "Montague's been playing the long con, and now-

"So what _do_ you say happened then, Katie?" Ange cut in.

"I got tricked," Katie said grimly, "tricked, and now he's going to tell everyone. He's got my knickers. He'll show people. He might even have won a bet by sleeping with me. I wouldn't put it past him."

Ange and Alicia gaped at her, appalled.

"Now, hang on," Ange said, "I think you're overreacting."

"I'm not," Katie said.

* * *

"I _know_ you weren't there for the same reason I was," Katie said, changing subject, "so no pizza till you tell me the truth."

"You weren't there to get away from our fellow wizards and witches?" Montague asked.

"No," Katie said, "I was there to see my Muggle mates and catch up. That's all."

"Really?" Montague pressed, "you didn't want a nice anonymous night of not being Katie Bell, beloved war heroine?"

"Well," Katie said, "I mean..." she shifted.

Montague smiled, and Katie squirmed more. It had been his nice smile.

"I wasn't," she insisted, "I catch up with my friends every few months. They don't know about our world so of course I can't be...y'know."

"The golden girl of Gryffindor?" Montague supplied.

"That's Hermione," Katie corrected, and Montague half-shrugged.

"You're the one with the golden hair," he said, reaching forward and tugging gently on one of her locks and for a second of madness, Katie thought he was flirting. She shook it off.

"Whatever," Katie said, "my point is, I'm certainly not a huge celebrity or hero or anything. But sometimes I do miss doing Muggle things. That's how I was raised. That's who I was, who my friends were, who my family are. Sometimes I want to go to the movie theater and eat popcorn, and sometimes I want to go roller skating in black lights to disco music and sometimes I want to wear tight dresses and go drink martinis and not worry about who is watching."

Immediately, she wanted to shove the words back in her mouth. They felt like a confession. To Montague, of all people.

"I envy you," he said finally, and when Katie scoffed, he continued, "I do! The magical community is small. The pure-blood community smaller. It gets dull. Claustrophobic. But you've got all of these people in your life, all of these experiences."

Katie almost believed him. Almost. But then she'd remembered the way he sneered at Nate and his tattoos and piercings, the way he'd said "doctors."

"So you're never going to tell me how you ended up there, huh?" she said.

"No," Montague said, standing up, "are you going to fix my ribs or not?"

He'd side along Apparated them to the door outside his flat, as Katie was not only unaware of the location, but still too tipsy to handle solo apparition. That had been her third mistake of the night. Not only could Montague have splinched her unintentionally or on purpose, but now she had no idea where she was. But that didn't occur to Katie until later. Right now, she was a bit distracted by the hallway with its marble floors, gilded walls, china vases, crystal chandeliers. She closed her mouth with difficulty. Montague's expression was smug, but there was an underlying slyness to it that would bother her later.

"So you live in Buckingham Palace?" Katie tried to joke.

"I knew you'd be impressed," Montague told her, reaching for the door, his wand out tapping a pattern, "After all, you probably live in a hovel with Spinnet and Johnson."

* * *

"Hey!" Ange and Alicia said.

* * *

"Hey!" Katie said, "Our place is lovely, I'll have you know. Sorry I don't sleep on a pile of galleons."

Montague let her in, and the place was significantly less austere inside. Rich looking still, yes. But not an art museum like the hallway had indicated.

"Why do you live here?" Katie asked. She shouldn't be making small talk. She'd been promised a sober-up potion and she'd offered some healing charms in return. That's it.

"As opposed to what?" Montague asked, throwing the jumper on a nearby chair.

"Your family mansions," Katie said, stressing the s with some small contempt.

"Oh, so I'm so pathetic I live with my parents at the age of twenty-three?" Montague snorted.

"You're living off your parents' money either way," Katie pointed out and Montague's face flushed red like she was deliberately mocking him. She hadn't been, for once. It was just a fact.

"Am I supposed to apologize for being wealthy?" Montague said acidly.

"You're not wealthy," Katie couldn't resist.

"Oh, really?" Montague said, gesturing around them with exaggerated motions. The flat was enormous, plus, quite clearly cost more money than Katie's parents' whole house and her flat's worth combined. "What do you call this, then?"

"Your parent's money," Katie said, "unless you've got a job I don't know about?"

Montague's red face had extended down his neck.

"Sorry," he sneered, "I forgot you're impressed by knut-less Muggles with mutilated bodies. And the Weasley's pig barn. That's what gets Katie Bell's knickers all wet, right?"

Far from being the insult Montague seemed to think this was, Katie was bored. For some reason, Slytherins were under the impression that using the Weasley brothers as an insult was the vilest of slurs, that every Gryffindor girl could be taunted with a secret Weasley crush.

"So which one am I supposedly wet for?" Katie asked, her eyes still rolled upwards. "Wait wait, let me guess. Ron? I'm jealous of Hermione? Or I cry into my pillow every night wishing I was Fleur Delacour?"

"Don't ask me to fathom your sad little mind," Montague said, "I just saw you flinging yourself at some gross Muggles all night, don't forget. You clearly can't be trusted."

"You sound jealous," Katie said. She knew Montague wasn't, of course, but she also knew this was guaranteed to push some very amusing buttons.

"Jealous?" Montague sneered, "what are you even referring to? The Weasley pig barn? The hovel you live in with Spinnet and Johnson? A Muggle with a skin disease and metal bits?"

"All of the above," Katie said, crossing her arms again. In the opulent pure-blood ambiance her Muggle clothes felt skimpy once more.

"I think you're the one who hit your head, Bell," Montague said.

"No, think about it," Katie said, "you're jealous that the Weasley's actually love their children, instead of shipping them off to nannies and house elves. You're jealous I have real friends who I trust. And you're jealous you weren't snogging me earlier."

Montague stepped right in her face, his angry expression made more ominous by the dried blood.

"You don't know me," he hissed, "so don't assume anything about me. You think I want you?"

"Of course you do," Katie lied glibly, she refused to look rattled. Perhaps it wasn't so wise to be alone in her Slytherin enemies flat while she was still somewhat intoxicated, "it's obvious."

"Is it?" Montague said, he was so close they could practically kiss. He looked like violence was on his mind, however, not kissing. "You think I would touch you with a ten foot broom?" he looked her over with scorn. "_You_?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Katie taunted, "cause I'm Muggleborn? Give me one other reason you've been hovering around me like a gnat all night." She really did want to know the real reason.

"Ammunition," Montague said, "I assure you, this is going to be the star of pure-blood gatherings for years. Little Katie Bell, pure little virginal Gryffindor miss, too uptight for dirty Slytherins, total slut for Muggles."

* * *

Katie paused, waiting for the groans that would follow this. Angelina looked at her, her head in her palm, than looked at Alicia.

"Well?" Alicia said. "Why'd you stop?"

"Aren't you going to ask me what I was thinking again?" Katie said, "After he admitted he was going to use my actions as blackmail and called me a slut for the umpteenth time?"

"No," Ange said, "we know what's happening, even if you don't."

"What does that mean?" Katie said. Her voice was higher pitched then it should be.

"We'll tell you later," Alicia said, "Just finish it, and then we'll tell you what happened."

"I know what happened," Katie said, dumbfounded, "I was the one that was there, wasn't I? I was the one who..um..."

"Got naked with a Slytherin?" Alicia said helpfully, "Stuck your tongue down Graham Montague's throat?"

"Alicia," Ange said, clearly trying not to laugh," you got naked with Ernie Macmillan. Lay off for a moment, would you? Katie, we'll explain later."

"Fine," Katie said. You could use her face as a frying pan.

* * *

Katie made to slap Montague again for calling her a slut but he grabbed her hand, and suddenly they were grappling with each other, falling onto his giant expensive couch, Katie hissing that Montague was a pig while he laughed at her, then pinned her to couch so she couldn't hit him again.

"Can't wait to tell Pucey," he jeered while Katie struggled to extricate herself from his pin, "he always said your good girl thing was total bullshit, that all I had to do was-"

Katie kneed him in the balls.

Montague fell off the couch in silence, writhing around the ground, his mouth open in a silent scream.

"Accio sober-up swiftly," Katie said, and a handful of little potion bottles flew at her. She grabbed one, drank it as Montague found his voice and groaned in agony. Sense and reason (and deep embarrassment at some of her behavior) fully returned.

"Right," she said as Montague wheezed, "hold still. Episkey!"

His ribs snapped back together and Montague shrieked.

"Drink this," Katie said, tossing him another bottle of Sober-Up Swiftly.

Montague was gasping for air, but he'd caught the bottle, Quidditch reflexes still intact.

"I'm not drunk," he said finally, sounding irritated.

"Just drink it," Katie snapped. She should leave. She didn't know why she cared about finding out if Montague's behavior was due to him being drunk or not. But she wanted to know.

Montague glared at her, but he popped the cork and drank it with a wince. The sobering potion was particularly foul.

"Feel better?" Katie asked. She should leave. Now. Just leave. Hope Montague would never tell anyone how she looked in a short skirt and a tight shirt, wouldn't tell every guy in Slytherin how Katie had snogged a complete stranger.

"Peachy," Montague groaned, climbing back up on the couch next to her. "Thanks for that knee to the balls, by the way."

"You had it coming," Katie retorted, "You brought it on yourself."

"Right," Montague said sarcastically, poking himself in the spot where she'd fixed his ribs.

"Better?" Katie asked. Not like she cared if he was still in pain.

Montague took off his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Katie said. She had been trying for disgust but she was afraid her voice had gone a bit shrill from surprise.

"I'm checking if I'm healed," Montague snapped, "I let myself get attacked by Muggles just so I could defend your non-existent honor, remember?" he felt gingerly around his ribs.

"And why did you do that?" Katie asked. Not that she believed that that was why Montague had done it, but she was trying to distract herself from the fact that she was sitting in Graham Montague's flat alone, in Muggle club wear, while he was shirtless.

"Because you promised to fix me up in exchange for getting you sober," Montague said, "how are you _more_ forgetful now that you're not drunk?"

Katie glanced at him while he kept feeling around his chest, glaring at her. She had the odd suspicion that Montague was trying to re-direct the conversation from his comment about defending her honor.

"You just have to make everything as unpleasant as possible, don't you?" Katie said. There was something so uncomfortable about the whole situation that she was fighting every urge to flee like a coward. She could take Montague in a wand fight if need be. She'd survived the Battle of Hogwarts, hadn't she?

"Are you going to fix me or not?" Montague said, still feeling up his own body. Katie had another odd suspicion, but she immediately dismissed it.

"You're fixed," Katie said, "unless something else is wrong besides your ribs."

* * *

"You immediately dismissed what?" Ange said.

"Oh, I was wrong," Katie shrugged. "You'll just laugh at me."

"Worse than we already have?" Alicia pointed out.

Katie grimaced. Well. It was true.

"I thought for a second he was trying to get me to look at him shirtless," Katie said, "the way he kept fondling himself while talking to me. But I know that's silly. He was trying to find more damage."

Alicia's head plunked on the table, and she groaned. Ange covered her face with her hands.

"Katie," Alicia said from the place mat, her words somewhat muffled, "that was obviously what he was doing."

"I know," Katie said, needled, "he was obviously trying to find damage. That's why I dismissed- what?!"

* * *

"You're not going to get rid of the blood?' Montague asked, gesturing at his face with one hand. The other was still prodding at his own torso. Katie was making sure to look directly into his eyes.

"You can use a towel and some water," Katie said acidly, "I'm not your mother."

"Will you stop bringing up my mother?" Montague snarled.

"It's just a phrase, you big baby," Katie said, "ugh, fine. Aguimenti!" and Montague was blasted in the face with water. As funny as it was to see him sputter through the blast, she hadn't quite thought that one through, because now the blood was gone and he was shirtless and dripping wet. She couldn't help it. Her eyes darted. Even worse, she couldn't stop the fleeting feeling of being impressed at what she saw. Getting rid of the Flint esque bulk had done Montague a world of good.

"Take a picture Bell," Montague said, spitting out water.

"Ew," Katie said, but secretly she was grateful. Montague had very effectively stopped the weird feeling with the spittle.

Montague picked up the discarded shirt and rubbed his wet face with it, removing the rest of the blood remnants. He winced.

"What?" Katie said, "Something still broken?"

It wasn't that she cared, not at all, but healing was a career she'd considered and Flitwick had tried to talk her into until he found out her abysmal Potions and Herbology marks, so she took her healing charms seriously. She'd saved Justin Fintch-Fletchley's life in the Battle of Hogwarts with a blood staunching charm. But she didn't like to think about that.

"Can't tell," Montague said, giving a tiny shrug which made him wince again, "can you feel here and tell me?" He indicated a spot on his right abdomen, just below his pectoral muscles.

Katie moved closer, intent on solving the problem. Her fingers gently touched Montague's abs, which were certainly not spectacular or anything, and he winced.

"Here too," he said, taking her hand and moving it to the left side of his body.

Katie's fingers skittered around, gently pressing here and there. Her long hair stuck to part of Montague's wet chest.

"Try here," Montague said, moving her hand again, and Katie had to move her whole body. So intent was she on finding a problem that it took her far too long to realize she was practically in Montague's lap. "What about here?" Katie asked, pressing a bruised spot, her hair brushing Montague more, and suddenly she noticed that he was getting goose pimples from the cold.

* * *

"Yeah, that's it," said Alicia, whose head was still on the place mat, "he was cold."

Angelina laughed, a little hysterically. "And so injured, don't forget," she added, "a mysterious injury that requires copious groping to heal."

"God Katie," Alicia mumbled into the table, "no wonder he tricked you. He smiled that nice smile and showed you how rich he was-"

"-and called her a slut repeatedly, insulted her Muggle friends, insulted us-" Ange added.

"-and got in a brawl to hit some Muggles who were rude-"

"-not as rude as he had been-"

"-and then," Alicia continued, as Katie had buried her own face in her hands. Retelling the story had made her realized how she was as clueless as Ron Weasley about the opposite sex.

"-then," Alicia persisted, "he used your weakness for healing people against you to get you to fondle him without you even realizing what he was doing! You didn't even realize it until now, did you?"

"No," Katie whimpered, than she tried a joke to heal her misery a little. "Guess I wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw for a reason, huh?"

"Or Slytherin," Alicia said, voice still muffled, "you didn't even suspect that this whole thing had ulterior motives, and then it worked! God, we need to get him back for this. What is Montague's weakness?"

"Blonde hair," Angelina, who had chugged a mimosa said with a hiccup, "long legs. Gryffindor girls named Katie Bell."

Alicia snickered, than her head popped up with sudden animation.

"Well continue, Katie! What was he like in bed? How big was his Johnson?"

"Excuse you?" Angelina said, but then she cackled the cackle of a drunk who'd just had their last name used as an alternative to saying penis.

"What noises did he make when he-"

"Oh my god," Katie moaned, "stop, I beg you."

"No, we need blackmail material!" Alicia said, hitting her fist on the table, "you know he's got ammunition on you, we need knowledge to retaliate with!"

"Yeah," Ange giggled, "did he cry afterwards? Did he last twelve seconds?"

Alicia began laughing too. "Did he make you tie him up? Did he ask you to call him Daddy?"

"I'm going to vomit," Katie said.

"Probably because you've consumed your body weight in alcohol in the past twelve hours," Alicia said.

* * *

"Here," Montague said, his voice sounding strange, like he was in pain, and Katie's hands were both now on his chest. She lost her balance, and fell half on his lap before immediately scrambling off in embarrassment.

"Sorry," she said, face red.

"It's ok," Montague said, voice constricted.

"I don't think anything's broken," Katie said, trying to regain professionalism. She doubted St. Mungo's healers frequently sat in the lap of their shirtless and wet patients in Muggle club gear. "Do you have a healing salve? That could help with the sore bruises."

"Probably," Montague said, "I've got almost everything. _Accio Healing Salve_!" a little jar flew their way and Katie caught it. She made to hand it to Montague.

"What are you doing?" he said, not taking it.

"Aren't you going to use it?" Katie asked.

"Aren't you going to put it on me?" Montague asked.

"What?" Katie scoffed, "no. I told you, nothing's broken. You're fine. Time for me to leave."

"I need help putting in on," Montague whined, still not taking it, "my muscles are sore. Didn't you see how often those Muggles hit me while I defended you?"

"You've called me a slut about eight times since you defended me," Katie said, pushing the jar into his chest, "you don't get an award."

She made to get up and then Montague's hand was around her wrist.  
"Please," he said, "I really am sore. I don't know if I'll be able to reach."

Katie rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh.

"You're buying the pizza next weekend," she grumbled without thinking, unscrewing the jar.

It didn't occur to her that she really should've canceled that idea over Montague's subsequent misbehavior until hours later when she had been sneaking out of his apartment without knickers.

"But of course," Montague said easily, "so what_ is _pizza?"

Katie started clinically applying the cream in rapid, harsh motions.

"Ouch, Bell, not so rough!"

"Put it on yourself if you don't like it," Katie said, not altering her speed.

She would be damned if she slowly rubbed Graham Montague with healing ointment and he could somehow twist that and tell all his arsehole friends that he'd gotten Katie Bell as his personal masseuse. "Pizza is the food of the gods. Carbs, cheese, sauce, toppings. Perfection."

"Carbs?" Montague said curiously, "what's that?"

"There," Katie said, "done. I'll explain about pizza later, I've got to go."

Montague's hand was on her again. "But why?" he said, "It's not late."

"It's past two in the morning," Katie pointed out.

"I can make some tea," Montague said, "be a good host."

Katie stood up. "No, I've got to go."

She really didn't know why she'd let Montague manipulate her into staying so long, but the fact that his offer had actually tempted her scared her more than anything else that had happened all night. She had to leave. Now.

Montague stood up as well.

"You haven't even thanked me," Montague said, and his hand was still on her arm. It was surprisingly gentle.

"For what?" Katie asked, "You instigated that fight, I'll have you recall. I was just talking to those guys and then you got them all angry. Then you started punching first. Then you called me names and were rude to my friends. What am I thanking you for? Buying me drinks I could buy myself?"

"You're right," Montague said, changing tactics, "perhaps I should thank you for healing me."

"Great," Katie said.

They looked at each other.

"Well?" Katie prompted.

"I don't usually thank people," Montague said, looking pained.

Katie scoffed, twisting her arm out of Montague's grasp and making her way to the door. He followed.

* * *

"You know," Ange said, a touch loudly due to her drunken state, "any normal guy would realize he's already secured a date with you next weekend that he didn't even deserve and wait until then to go for the gold. But not Montague."

"It really adds to his insufferable charm," Alicia joked, "that stench of aggressive desperation."

"Well it worked on Katie," Ange cackled.

"That it did," Alicia said solemnly, "that it did."

"I am properly ashamed about it, okay?" Katie said, "I didn't even know my brain was this messed up."

"Well, we've all got our crosses," Alicia said, clearly fighting a laugh. "I occasionally fuck Hufflepuffs."

"I've fucked twins," Ange said, hiccupping.

"Oh, who hasn't?" Alicia said, waving her hand. Ange cackled again.

* * *

"I'll need your address," Montague said to her back, "to pick you up next weekend."

"I'll just meet you there," Katie said obliviously. "I'll owl you the address."

"Great," Montague said, then, as he hadn't been an asshole for five whole minutes, he couldn't contain it any longer.

"Wear something nice and short again, won't you Bell? I'm quite enjoying the view. I had no idea your legs looked that great. Maybe wear something more low cut next time, yeah? Show a little-"

Katie had been reaching for the doorknob and freedom but this couldn't be borne. She spun back, kicking Montague with her great looking legs, aiming for his balls again. Montague, now that they were both sober, had all of his Quidditch reflexes at his disposal and managed to twist away enough that Katie hit his upper thigh again.

"Forget it," Katie said as Montague grunted with pain, "pizza's done. Fuck you, you pig. Don't show up at a Muggle club again."

She tried to kick out again, but Montague caught her ankle, and Katie felt so horrified at the goosebumps she had from his hand touching her that she twisted violently to get herself free.

"Yeah, sure," Montague said, the sarcasm thick in his voice as Katie did ungainly hops, "I'll just avoid every single Muggle establishment because Princess Perfect told me to. Get bent, Bell."

"Let go of my leg!" Katie said, still twisting and hopping.

"Are you going to kick me again?" Montague demanded.

"Are you going to make a crude comment again?" Katie retorted.

"Probably," Montague said, "your leg feels great. Really smoo-" his hand was traveling up to her knee.

Katie grabbed Montague's shoulders (which were, alas, still bare) and launched herself in the air, kicking with her other leg. Montague grabbed at her other kicking foot, and somehow, Katie was straddling Montague midair, his hands firmly on her kicking calves, her thighs wrapped around his naked torso.

Of all the terrible mistakes Katie had made in her dating life, this won the pink fluffy tiara.

"Fuck," Montague hissed, seeming to realize they'd gotten in this extremely sexual position by accident at the same time Katie had. Unlike Katie, who'd frozen like a rabbit in a snare at the fact that she was midair straddling a shirtless Graham Montague in a skirt that had only gotten far shorter due to her body position, Montague came to his senses far faster. If by "came to his sense," you meant leaned forward and kissed Katie.


	3. Sassy's Candy Knickers

**Chapter Three: ****Sassy's Candy Knickers**

Angelina made a retching noise at the same time Alicia whooped.

"Finally," Alicia said, "we're getting to the good stuff. I mean, sure you're basically dry humping Graham Montague, the most arrogant Slytherin-"

"Malfoy," Ange corrected, then gagged a little again.

"Okay, _second _most arrogant Slytherin to exist," Alicia said, "in his ridiculous mansion flat. Sure he's been insufferable, insulted you ten times over that night alone-"

"At least twenty times," Ange mumbled.

"-and neither of you are even remotely drunk. In fact, you're dead ass sober, yet you're still climbing him like a tree."

Ange gagged again.

"But its been what, eight months since your last fella?" Alicia said, switching tactics and seemingly going for sympathy. Or maybe pity. It was hard to tell. "And you said he lost the Flint troll look? Well, I suppose he's looking hotter then."

"He is," Katie said. It was the hardest thing she'd ever admitted in her life. Why why_ why _had she let Montague take off his shirt? And _looked?_

"So, you're young," Alicia said. She was trying not to smirk. She failed. "and he's fit. You haven't gotten a piece of arse in a while. And this one literally grabbed you and-"

"Okay stop," Ange groaned, "Unless it gets funny, like he wanted you to slap him with licorice wands."

"It doesn't," Katie said, "and you're right. The end. We had sex."

"No!" Alicia said, sitting up straight, smirk falling off her face.

"Yes," Katie said firmly.

"You can't possibly leave it there," Alicia whined, "we've listened to every detail about fries you put in milkshakes, your friends dancing until they broke their dress straps, every quip, every insult...and you're going to stop right when we're getting to the juicy stuff?"

"Juicy," Ange cackled, then she grimaced. "Ew. Juicy with Montague."

"We had sex," Katie said, recovering after her full body shudder from Angelina's comment, "and then I tried to grab my knickers but I panicked he was going to wake up and I left without them."

"Rookie mistake," Alicia said thoughtfully, "but maybe we could do some sort of reconnaissance mission to his place, right, send him an owl that his mother's died or something, break in-"

"We're not breaking into Montague's flat," Ange said. Even drunk she was still the responsible one.

"Well maybe we can blackmail him into sending them back," Alicia said with fresh enthusiasm. "What humiliating things do we know about Montague?"

"We can tell everyone he slept with Katie," Ange said.

"Hey!" Katie yelped, "how is that humiliating for him? I'm the one who can get blackmailed with this information!"

"He's a pure-blood," Alicia agreed with Ange like Katie hadn't spoken, "someone's bound to give him shite for hanging out in Muggle clothes in a Muggle club with Muggles and then banging the socks off a Muggleborn-"

"I wasn't wearing socks," Katie interjected.

"Yeah," Ange agreed, "he's probably just as embarrassed that he-"

"You don't think," Katie said, "that given our revelations about Pucey hitting on you, Alicia, and Warrington hitting on you, Ange, that it's more likely they'd give him a high five? That they might even-" she stopped to take a deep breath. This had occurred to her afterwards, when she'd really processed something Montague had said during, "-have a bet going? Which one of them gets one of us in bed first?"

There was a horrified silence. Katie had hoped her friends would rush to tell her she was being silly.

"That might be true," Alicia said instead, "wow. I'm sorry, Kates. That's….wow."

"He's an ass," Ange said, more skeptically, "but is he such an ass he'd spread it around to every guy we know that he slept with Katie?"

"Yes," Katie and Alicia said together, their eyes trained on the flower explosion.

"Well," Alicia said, "now you _have _to tell us details."

"No," Katie said.

"No, listen, not just for my amusement!" Alicia said, waving her hands about. "But because we need to hear it for possible retaliatory tactics!"

"No," Katie repeated, deeply uncomfortable. It wasn't what Montague had done that she didn't want her friends to know. It was what _she_ had done.

"But-"

"Leave it, Alicia," said Angelina, who, even though her eyes were crossing due to their copious day drinking, had seemed to pick up on what was upsetting Katie. "If you think of anything funny Katie, just tell us and we'll use it. Otherwise, let's come up with a plan to deal with this."

"A plan?" Katie asked.

"Yeah," Alicia said, clearly annoyed she wasn't getting details. "Because he's totally going to tell every detail to his little friends unless we stop him."

* * *

They'd spent the rest of the next hour debating how to deal with the situation, bandying around such absurd ideas as casting memory charms, unforgivable curses, and bribing Harry to sleep with Pansy Parkinson instead to create a much larger scandal. Sadly, the last one had been the most legal of all the suggestions. Edith the waitress had joined the conversation finally, and suggested a number of Muggle tactics that confused Ange and Alicia. They'd left the bouquet with the very delighted Edith, who told them to stop by next Sunday to give her an update, after Alicia had snatched the card and shoved it in her purse for evidence.

"Ooh, try this on Katie," Alicia said, holding up a deep red very short dress that plunged in the front, "our tits are too big. But yours are perfect."

"Thanks," Katie said sourly, because that had triggered a memory of Montague commenting on her body the night before.

"Montague would love it," Ange mumbled.

"That's it," Katie said, putting back the blue skirt she'd just picked off he rack, "I'm done with this."

"No, come on," Alicia wheedled, "we need a plan, and Ange needs-" she stopped with a quick, guilty look at Angelina.

"Ange needs to get away from all the shops frequented by witches where everyone will be calling her a brother fucker," Angelina said sourly. Her drunken state was turning morose.

"Fine," Katie said, "but knock it off with those comments about Montague."

"What?" Alicia said, "he _would_ love it. Show up to some charity event that pure-bloods always frequent, where the nice pure-blood faux virgins are dressed from ankle to neck in the finest modest robes money can buy, covered in jewels, and you'll trot in looking like a sexy long legged lioness. Watch Montague choke to death on his own saliva. We win!"

"Or watch as everyone calls me a hooker all night," Katie said sourly.

"Well, you've got a fifty percent chance of the first option!" Alicia said cheerfully. "Just try it on!"

"Yeah," Ange said, "let's buy you a bunch of scandalous outfits and watch Montague twist in the wind, pining for what he can never have."

"That was very coherent for a drunk girl," Alicia said, "also, let's say 'what he can never have _again_,' yeah?"

Katie heard a whisper of Montague telling her how great her legs were when they'd been in his bed.

"Yeah," she said with sudden enthusiasm, "why not? Let's buy me a bunch of revealing Muggle wear."

"Excellent," Alicia said happily, "let's buy some for George to enjoy too, what do you say? But for Ange, let's focus on these tits."

Alicia's boundless cheerfulness and Angelina's relentless drunken asides had somehow convinced Katie that this could maybe all work out in the end. But then they'd gotten back to their flat and seen the towering stack of gold wrapped boxes that awaited Katie. She hadn't even tried to stop Alicia from tearing into the boxes, or Ange from reading the card aloud to them all, aside from a weak reminder that they should check the boxes for curses soon.

"Bell," Angelina read, and her left eyebrow raised, "back to calling you Bell, I see. Huh. Anyway, 'Bell, got you some more knickers – if you can call them that- to replace the ones you gave me._'"_

"I didn't give them to him," Katie said indignantly, "that was an accident!"

"Why doesn't he just send your knickers? Is he going to wear them?" Alicia cackled, opening the first box with a tearing of paper. "What the-" she held up a bizarre pair of crotch-less panties covered in pink bows on the sides.

"I had Sassy order them," Ange read, her eyes darting to the next box Alicia was opening, which contained what appeared to be a matching set of candy knickers and bra, "Wear one of them when I get you next weekend for that pizza."

"He sent his house elf to buy you Muggle knickers?" Alicia shrieked. "His_ house elf_?"

"He spelled pizza as p-e-e-z-a-h too," Ange laughed. "Katie, how did you ever fuck this guy?"

Katie's head was down on the counter, a rogue purple rose petal squished into her left cheek.

"He looked surprisingly good with his shirt off and wet," she admitted to the counter.

"There's one that's made out of pink sequins in the shape of a unicorn!" Alicia said happily, holding up a pair of knickers.

"Those are fantastic," Ange said with tipsy enthusiasm.

"Take them," Katie said.

"George will LOVE them," Alicia squealed, "especially if you tell him who bought them."

"A house elf named Sassy?" Katie said.

"With Montague's money. For Katie. Because of the fornication," Alicia said with unhealthy glee.

"We are _not_ telling George!" Katie said with sudden vigor, her head popping up with the petal still sticking to her cheek.

There were not many people she could think of that she wanted to know less about her nocturnal activities the day before then George Weasley.

"He'd find it funny," Ange insisted with a tiny hiccup.

Alicia also looked skeptical. "Well, anyway, oh, this one has wings attached to the bra!"

"He's discovered Victoria's Secret," Katie groaned.

"Who's Victoria and what is her secret?" Alicia demanded, turning the gold and white bra this way and that.

"No one knows," Katie mumbled, "she's a woman of mystery. And body lotions."

"This one is red and sparkly!" Ange said, joining in the unwrapping with enthusiasm. "I don't think these are sequins though they look too—Merlin's Pants!"

She turned the bra and knicker set around to show Katie and Alicia with her mouth half open.

"Are those rubies?" Alicia screamed. "Actual rubies?"

"Wow," Ange said, "your game is so strong, Katie. Teach us your secrets."

The pit of dread that had been in Katie's stomach since she'd woken up naked in Montague's bed which had been the size of a mid sized elephant plummeted.

"I told you I don't want to talk about it," she said, stiffly.

"You have to tell us some details," Alicia insisted. "Because we've got to know why Montague is sending you this stuff. I mean, one bouquet is a taunt. Two, still perhaps a taunt. He's rich enough. But this?" she gestured at the ruby studded knickers. "This is a man in love."

Katie burst out laughing. She laughed so hard she felt sick.

"What?" Alicia said, annoyed.

"Alicia's right," Ange said, "I mean, he's at least looking for some more action. That's good."

"It's not good," Katie said, "and how can you say George will find this funny? Have you both lost your marbles? Have you forgotten the time the twins shoved Montague into a vanishing cabinet just for trying to take points?"

"Fred wouldn't find it funny," Ange said, "you're right about that. He'd be pretty mad at you actually. But George will think this is hilarious. Particularly if you've got Montague whipped."

"I call dibs on the candy pair," Alicia said, ripping open the next package, "Ange, take the wings and the unicorn. Dazzle George with—oh!" she pulled out a midnight blue lingerie set that twinkled like it was studded with tiny stars.

"Keep this one and the ruby set Katie," Ange said, "we'll take the ridiculous ones. Do you want the crotch-less pair Alicia?"

"Take all of them," Katie said firmly, "Alicia, take the flowers into work with you on Monday."

"And explain how I got them?" Alicia said archly.

"You're right," Katie said, drawing her wand. "Let's burn everything."

Alicia snatched the wand from her hand. "You leave my candy bra alone, Katie Bell!"

"He really sent his house elf to buy this," Ange said, holding up a fluffy yellow bra and knicker set with awe.

"But how?" Alicia said, "this is clearly Muggle wear. Oh! Maybe he's lying and picked it out himself."

"Maybe he sent his mum," Ange said gleefully, "told her he'd finally found a proper pure-blood miss."

"And that caused his mother to buy _this_?" Katie said, shaking the winged bra.

"The angel who took her useless son off her hands," Alicia said.

"He'd never want his mum to know," Katie said darkly. "He's got younger brothers. He could get disowned for this."

"For what?" Alicia asked.

"For sleeping with a Muggleborn, obviously," Katie said.

Ange snorted.

"That's as common to them as cursing Harry's name in private," Alicia said, "Katie, luv, you are aware the habit of screwing the undesirables is a favorite pure-blood sport? You just can't _marry _them."

Unexpectedly, Katie felt her throat constrict. She didn't even want to date Montague, certainly not marry him. But to hear the blunt reminder that she'd slept with a guy who didn't consider her worthy of consideration as a person was painful to face.

* * *

Montague was kissing her and it was nice. That was a sentence that never should've passed through Katie's head. Ever. She pulled her face away from Montague.  
"Put me down," she said firmly.

At some point, he'd let go of her calves and put his arm around her back instead. That meant her legs were actively betraying her by wrapping themselves around his torso.

Montague gripped her tightly for a moment, and then loosened his grip. Katie untangled her legs, gaining her feet again. They were both breathing oddly. Katie didn't know what to do. Should she look unruffled? Smug? Disgusted? Should she flee? She forced herself to make eye contact. She couldn't show weakness.

Montague licked his lips.

"Nice kiss," he said.

"I've had better," Katie said with disdain.

Had she, though? Montague made a repulsively smug face like he didn't believe her. Katie bristled. "That Muggle bartender for one."

"I can beat him," Montague said. There was a sense of coiled anger underneath his skin. "Give me another shot."  
Katie opened her mouth, fully intending on laughing at Montague, who was begging her for a chance to give her the best snog of her life.

"One shot," came out of her mouth instead.

Who had possessed her? What was she doing? Had Montague given her Veritaserum? There wasn't time to dwell because Montague was kissing her again, his tongue far more active in her mouth, his left arm around her waist, pulling her in, his right hand on her face, his thumb brushing on her cheek. That settled it. She, Katie Bell, righteous Gryffindor, was receiving the best kiss of her life from Graham Montague, asshole Slytherin. She probably should stop this madness immediately. But she remembered the way her last boyfriend had looked when he'd broken up with her, the things he'd said. She thought of how Montague had called her Katie Long Legs for years. She'd always thought this was an insult, a play on Daddy Long Leg spiders, but it was possible that it had been Montague's pathetic way of flirting with her. It had always struck her as odd that he'd called her Katie at all, when the rest of the Slytherins exclusively called her Bell.

The kiss went on and on, until Katie's legs had half given out (she blamed the lateness of the night) and she stumbled into Montague, half knocking them down until they fell onto a heap on the floor. It should've ended the kiss but it seemed Montague had no intention of breaking apart. He rolled them over on the pristine floor until he was on top of her, his left arm underneath them, the right hand drawing up Katie's left leg, his hand skimming over her calf and knee, up to her thigh, underneath her tiny skirt, dragging her leg to wrap around him. Katie, for some reason, was letting him.

He removed his left arm from underneath them and pulled her right leg up as well, dropping his left hand and bringing it back to her face as she gripped Montague between her thighs, her brain screaming at her and asking her what the hell was she doing snogging Graham Montage on the damn floor with her legs wrapped around him with her skirt up so high she knew her knickers were visible.

Katie pushed down all thoughts and forced herself to feel. When was the last time she'd done something stupid and reckless? It had been the Battle of Hogwarts. No need to guess. She had stopped all foolishness immediately after the battle, become cautious and staid, and repressed all her instincts to be a stupid Gryffindor out of trauma.

Well the war was over. Didn't she deserve to have some fun?

Montague's right hand, which had been making tiny movements up her thigh still, hesitated, then made it's way to her knickers, rubbing her gently between her legs, then, when Katie didn't slap him, a little harder. If Katie hadn't already shut off her fear she would've been horrified at herself for pushing back against Montague's hand with a sigh. But there was time for that later.

Montague groaned as he continued to rub her. Their kisses were getting sloppier due to lust, and Katie realized Montague had drawn her knickers to the side in order to slip his hand inside and she yanked her mouth away with a gasp.

She waited for Montague to mock her but he merely smiled at her and continued making her squirm, leaning forward and sucking on her neck until Katie, in between the assault on her neck and the fingers probing her gently below made a terribly embarrassing noise of pleasure.

Montague let go of her neck and kissed his way up her neck to her ear.

"Still not the best kiss of your life, Bell?" he whispered.

"I don't know," Katie said breathlessly, it had been so long since she'd been pleasured by anyone but herself.

She felt like she was going to fly apart already. Montague was surprisingly skilled.

"Care to give me another demonstration?" She asked.

She wanted to stop Montague looking at her that way.

He obliged and kissed her again, This couldn't do. He was far too in control of himself. Katie drew her hands up from her sides where she'd been awkwardly clenching them into the soft rug, and did what a buried part of her had been wanting to do all night and moved her hands on Montague's body with far more eagerness then she'd applied the ointment.

Montague groaned, burying his face back in her neck.

"Fuck you're so wet, Bell," he mumbled, and Katie felt like dying of humiliation.

"Shut up," Katie said through her teeth, "or I won't be for much longer."

"Why," Montague said, his voice constricted, "it's so fucking hot."

He took one of her hands and placed it on the front of his trousers to prove his point and Katie gasped when she touched the evidence that Montague was enjoying this interaction quite a lot. Her hand closed for a second from shock and Montague groaned.

"See?" he said, "hot."

They began kissing again but when Montague tried to remove her knickers Katie stopped him.

"I'm not fucking you on the floor," she said severely.

"Not a problem," Montague said, and then he removed his hand from her knickers and sat up, pulling Katie to her feet, then picking her up while she squealed with surprise.

"Look, I can even be all romantic," he smirked at her, carrying her down a long hallway and kicking a door open.

"So romantic," Katie said with an eye-roll, but then Montague had dropped her on his enormous bed and pressed her to the velvet comforter, pulling down her knickers and looking at them in his hand for a second.

"What in Salazar's name is this?" he asked her, bewildered.

"My knickers, Montague," Katie said, "have you never seen a girl's knickers? No, don't answer that, I know you haven't. The virginity and all."

Montague grinned at her, then tossed the knickers aside.

"You talk a big game, Bell," he said, grabbing her legs from where they dangled of the bed, kneeling in front of her, "but I think it's time I shut you up for once." He started kissing up her left leg.

"You can try," Katie said, "but we both know you'll fa-"

Montague reached the place where her knickers used to be and Katie inhaled, the words dying in her throat. It's not that she'd ever thought about fucking Montague before, but if she had, she would have never thought he was willing to pleasure a girl like this. He was far too arrogant and rude. And apparently, full of surprises.

Katie's hands clutched at the ludicrous green velvet comforter as her legs closed around Montague's head. Killing him by suffocation was definitely a way to get out of this mess with her reputation intact. Except that pesky murder charge…

Her legs were shaking. This was embarrassing, but she found herself less and less likely to care as Montague kept working his evil magic. Who had taught him how to do this? And why had a boy as ridiculously selfish as him been willing to learn?

There was a pause in the action and Katie heard herself making a disappointed noise.

"I think I shut you up, Bell," Montague said smugly, looking up at her.

Katie glanced up at his canopy, throwing an arm over her eyes so she didn't have to make awkward eye contact anymore. Couldn't Montague let her have an ounce of dignity and give her an orgasm in silence?

"Clearly my efforts to suffocate you are going badly," Katie said through her arms.

"Not true, I can barely breathe," Montague said, "but that's OK. A good sign of my skills, wouldn't you say, Bell?"

"No," Katie lied.

"Liar," Montague laughed, "I knew those Gryffindor boys-"

"Shut up," Katie said through her teeth, "or you won't be giving me anything, now will you?"

"Pull my hair when you've lost the ability to speak," Montague said smugly, and Katie made a gagging noise, but she didn't push him away like she should've.

Montague, blessedly, finally, shut his mouth, but that left Katie biting her tongue almost in half in an attempt to keep silent. She couldn't bear the thought of Montague hearing her. Of course the smart thing to do would be to leave entirely, perhaps casting an Obliviate on the way out, but Katie had never been accused of being a misplaced Ravenclaw. She squirmed in place, twisting the sheets in white knuckles.

"You're going to get blood in your mouth," Montague muttered into her left thigh, "stop holding back."

"Make me," Katie said, removing her teeth from her tongue.

That, of course, was her biggest mistake of the entire night. Not only did she end up pulling multiple strands of dark hair directly out of Montague's head at the moment of peak pleasure, but she hadn't been silent then, nor had she been silent when she'd been on top of him and he'd told her to ride him like she was his old Nimbus 2001. She hadn't covered herself in glory the next time either, when she'd let Montague get on top, or the time after that, when she could barely remember what happened due to her heightened state of arousal. All Katie knew when she'd snuck out, knicker-less, was that she'd have to move to New Zealand and join the Moutohora Macaws Quidditch team under heavy disguise. Perhaps she'd have to shave her head and dye the scalp blue. But even think, Montague might show up to a game with her knickers in his hand, smirking at her. In short, she was doomed.

* * *

"It's alright, Katie," Alicia said, drawing Katie out of her reverie, "we'll figure something out. We won't let Montague ruin your reputation."

"Yeah," Ange said, but at that very moment, multiple owls arrived, bearing hate mail for her. Rita's article had landed.

The rest of the day was spent, as it should be, comforting the distraught Ange until George arrived after finishing work. Apparently, he'd gotten a fair amount of well wishers along with the self- righteously angry.

"We'll get her," he said grimly, echoing what Katie and Alicia had been saying for hours. "I'm pretty sure Hermione's got some sort of blackmail over her. I don't know what, I never found out. But whatever it is, it got her to write an honest article and publish it for free in the Quibbler. So it's got to be bad."

Alicia sat up straight.

"But wait," she said, "if that's true, then why has she been writing horrible articles for years about all of us? Including Hermione?"

For Rita had published an article the week before about how Hermione was a hare brain dead dimwit and the only reason she'd started that house-elf legislation was because she had received a serious head injury in the Battle of Hogwarts years before.

"No idea," George said, "but I know Ron mentioned it once, when he was drunk. I'll get it out of him, whatever it is."

He looked as miserable as Ange.

"That's the spirit," Alicia said encouragingly, "we'll get that old bitch, yeah?"

George looked around their apartment blankly, and finally his eyes alighted on the rainbow explosion and the tower of gold and white boxes. There was another giant red box full of chocolates that had arrived an hour ago. They'd tested them for poison, then devoured half of them. They had been there the whole time, but it was the first time he'd really seen them.

"What happened here?" George said, raising a ginger brow. "Who's got an admirer?"

Alicia sat up with a grin, and a ghost of a smile even graced Ange's face.

"Oh, this'll cheer you up, George!" Alicia said happily.

"No," Katie said loudly.

She knew her mates were convinced that George would find this amusing. But she'd seen more of George during the battle then they had. And she wasn't so sure.

"So Katie, I take it," George said, looking between the three of them, "and someone awful at that. Who is it? Not Zacharias Smith?"

"_No_," Katie said loudly, God, no one gave her any credit. Smith wasn't even remotely good looking.

"McLaggen?" George said, the little smile expanding. "It's got to be someone really noxious to inspire this in you."

Ange held up the unicorn knicker set.

"And rich," she said, "look what I've got for later."

George smiled, the biggest smile Katie had seen from him in a month.

"Lucky me," he said, "so a rich bloke that's terrible. Katie Bell, are you sleeping with Draco Malfoy?"

"Oh not that bad, give her _some_ credit," Alicia said, but she was grinning too. "Look at the ones I've got! They're made of candy."

"And you didn't claim that pair?" George said to Ange.

"What was I thinking?" Ange said, a small smile dawning on her face.

Well. Maybe the girls were right. George was taking this remarkably well. Maybe she could help cheer everyone up with her terrible mistakes.

He picked up a chocolate out of the box when Alicia passed them around once more.

"Funny story," Katie said, "it's your old friend. Graham Montague."

George choked, turning purple, then swallowed painfully, tears of pain in his eyes.

"WHAT?" he bellowed.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry if I disappointed with the truncated sex scene...I find them so painfully awkward to write! Hope you're enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing. :)


	4. Hangovers, Headaches, and Hellman

**Chapter Four: Hangovers, Headaches, and Hellman**

Katie had the mother of all hangovers. She supposed drinking almost continuously for thirty hours did that to you. She'd forgotten to ask Alicia for a hangover potion, and here she was, squinting in the sun, head pounding, listening to Gwenog Jones scream at Marielle O'Slattery for letting herself get hit by a Bludger from her fellow Beater. You'd think the Bludger hitting her dead on would be punishment enough, but Gwenog always ran a tight ship. Katie had often assumed that was due to Gwenog knowing they were the all only female team in the league. In fact, they were the only team in the league that had more then two women on first string. That left them with no option but to work thrice as hard to prove that they were just as good.

Losing to the Slytherins hadn't even stung as badly as losing to the Falcons two years ago, her first year on the first string. Marcus Flint was one of their Chasers. He'd shaken Katie's hand after the game with a malicious grin, all of his terrible teeth on display. She'd waited for her bones to get crushed as was his wont, but instead Flint had leaned in and told her her legs would be put to better use wrapped around him.

Katie had thought she'd get suspended, that the slap would get splashed all over the papers, but when Gwenog Jones had stormed over she'd not even had to ask what had happened. She screamed in Flint's face, shaking a finger, telling him to stop sexually harassing her players if he ever wanted a career. Then she'd screamed at Jimmy Falwell, the Falcon's team Captain to get his players in line. Instead of getting in trouble, Katie had been a tiny byline in a massive story about the heroism of Gwenog Jones, who cowed all other captains and demanded respect for her teammates.

The Quibbler, however, had run a photo of the slap, and Luna had written a long article about how Katie was clearly helping Flint overcome a demonic possession. There was, alas, nothing to be done for the damage the demon had done to Flint's teeth.

George had blown the photo up to astronomical sizes and hung it in his office at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for six months.

Katie, for her part, had torn out a copy, slathered some red lipstick on, kissed the article, and sent it to Flint. He'd sent back a rather obscene Howler. Apparently he was annoyed at all the ribbing he'd gotten for getting put in his place by two women. The upside, however, was that Gwenog had thawed considerably toward Katie after the incident.

She didn't know, however, if Jones would tolerate her worst first string Chaser showing up hungover and on the verge of vomit.

"You OK, Katie?" Ginny yelled as she flew past, tossing the Quaffle from one hand to the other in a complicated pattern.

"Peachy," Katie grunted.

Bile unexpectedly rose in her mouth when she tried to fly a drill after Ginny, and she was forced to swallow it. This was going to be a long practice.

Katie wiped her forehead two hours later. It was boiling hot, she was visibly sweating, but she was clammy. Perhaps she was getting ill. Montague's dick had given her some toxic, slow wasting disease. It would explain everything. He was trying to woo her with presents to get in her bed again to finish her off. Well. Maybe Luna's article about Flint's demonic possession made more sense then Montague having a bubonic plague penis.

"Bell," Jones said sharply into her left ear, and Katie winced against her will as a stab of pain shot through her head.

"Captain?" Katie said weakly as a bludger rocketed their way, and Jones dodged.

Katie was forced to roll over on her broom. More vomit came in her mouth that she had to swallow.

"You pregnant, Bell?" Jones barked at her.

It was the absolute last thing Katie expected to hear.

"What?" she said, wiping cold sweat off her forehead as across the field Shelley Smathers caught her third snitch of the day.

"Because if you are, you have to report it right away for safety reasons," Jones said, "and we need to start training up Hellman."

Hellman was the best of the second string Chasers; arrogant, beautiful, popular with the fans, and a constant thorn in Katie's side. She'd barely beaten Hellman for first string Chaser two years ago, and it had been even harder this year when they'd had open tryouts again. Jones believed in annual tryouts so her team didn't get complacent. No one could complain, since she put herself through them as well.

As usual, Jones had smashed Ginny and Katie and all other Chaser competition, but Hellman had almost outperformed Katie until she'd performed a perfect Wronski feint at the last moment right in front of Jones. Hellman had shaken her hand after the tryout, but her smile was falser then Pansy Parkinson's eyelashes.

"I'm not preg-" this time the vomit came up unexpectedly, Katie's mouth was already open, and it burst free, hitting the field two hundred feet below.

"Ew!" Juliet Northrup shrieked from next to them. She whacked the bludger hastily when it aimed at Katie again.

"Not pregnant?" Jones said dryly.

Katie heaved again, but nothing came up. The thought of having Montague's baby made her heave once more, and this time quite a lot came out. They'd been safe, at least. She remembered the whispered contraceptive charm Montague had cast on her. Unless he was totally inept at charm work, of course.

"Oh god," Katie said helplessly and heaved again.

"Bell," Jones said, her facial expression reminiscent of Minerva McGonagall, "how could you be so fool-"

"I'm hungover," Katie said hastily, "I'm sorry. I forgot to buy a sober up potion. I didn't mention it because I thought it would be unprofessional."

"You're right," Jones said, "this is much more professional," she gestured at the vomit below that one of the grounds keeping staff was vanishing.

Katie whimpered with guilt and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I really do appreciate being first string. I didn't want to mess it up like this."

"Team!" Jones bellowed, not looking at Katie, "take five! Run dive drills. I've got to get Bell a potion for the stomach flu."

Without looking at Katie she flew toward the locker room, and Katie followed, her heart hammering. She'd barely made the first string team. She wasn't the best Chaser, she never had been. She hadn't even been made Captain in her Seventh Year. Then she'd touched a cursed necklace and lost almost her whole last year, the year they got scouted by professional Quidditch teams. She'd had to work very, very hard to get on a team as a reserve. And she'd had to work even harder for first string.

Sometimes, Katie suspected she'd only gotten it for the positive press. After all Hellman and the other reserve string girls hadn't been a friend of Harry Potter, the wizarding world's boy hero. They hadn't fought Voldemort and the Death Eaters. And the papers _loved_ to mention how the Holyhead Harpies were the only team in the league who had two such heroes flying for them.

Oliver of course played for Puddlemere, and Ange played for the Kenmore Kestrals, although lately she'd become convinced she was going to get cut. Alicia was stuck in the reserves for the Wimbourne Wasps, but only the Harpies had two first string heroines. Katie suspected Gwenog Jones had shrewdly played that angle for more positive press, more sponsors.

"Captain," Katie tried again to Jones's back, as they began the descent to the locker room, "I'm really sorr-"  
"Stop apologizing Bell," Jones snapped over her shoulder, "you gave me a justified reason to scream at Jimmy Falwell in public and got us five new sponsors for slapping Flint. That's worth more then you showing up hungover to practice once. Do you know how long I've wanted an excuse to scream at Jimmy Falwell?"

"No," Katie said.

"Fifteen goddamn years," Jones said with relish, "and it was brilliant. Hellman's almost as good as you but she's a spoiled little prima donna. Would use all of her press to sell skimpy robes and makeup. You could do the same with that body and face but you don't. I respect that."

Katie's mouth dropped.

"Nothing wrong with selling what you've got," Gwenog continued as they landed, "but not on my team. Not when we've fought and clawed for respect from the male teams. They already call us the fuckable team, did you know that? Take bets on who gets to sleep with us."

Katie felt her stomach drop, then forced herself to remember that Montague had never flown on a team again after the twins had shoved him in that cabinet. He couldn't be part of a bet like that.

"The boys almost went into fits betting when I promoted you and Weasley," Jones said, voice clipped as they made their way to her office. "Weasley's got The Chosen One hanging off of her so that's not as much of a problem, but then I've got you flying about like a supermodel. Every bloke's dream."

Katie wondered if she was still drunk. Sure, she knew some boys had liked her in recent years. But she'd been all elbows and knees at school, not all that popular with the guys. That was Alicia and Ginny, and that's how she felt still in her heart.

"But you only care about the game," Jones said, rummaging through some drawers, "I haven't had to deal with you dangling on the arm of some arse who had placed a bet on getting in your knickers. Hellman, however, would make my life hell. Pardon the pun." She tossed a bottle at Katie.

"I'm not pregnant," Katie repeated, "you don't have to worry about getting Hellman instead."

"Excellent," Jones said, "at least give me six months warning to straighten up Hellman if you do decide to get knocked up. So who won his little bet last night?"

Katie turned green. From the way Jones was staring at her, she knew lying was not going to work.

"No one," Katie mumbled, "no one won a bet. At least not a professional Quidditch guy."

Jones nodded once and Katie drank the potion. As soon as the nausea and blinding headache left, some of her spirit returned to her.

"You know," Katie said, "You could've told me and Ginny about the bets. What if I had slept with some Quidditch jerk with a bet on? I would've liked a warning."

"I shouldn't have to warn my fellow Chasers not to be idiots," Jones said ominously, as they made their way back outside. "Any dimwit with two eyes would notice-" She trailed off, squinting.

Katie turned to see what her Captain was looking at. Her blood ran cold.

Sitting in the first row of the stands in the practice field was Montague. He was, thank god for small mercies, not holding a giant flower explosion or boxes of edible panties.

He was scanning the flying Chasers with a frown on his face. Second and third string were out practicing on the field with the first string so there were lots of flying women to parse through.

Katie took a step backwards, closer to the locker room, when she saw that Jones was watching her closely.

"Who's that?" she asked. "Thought you said there wasn't a guy?"

"I said no professional Quidditch guy won a bet," Katie said, her face burning like the sun. Montague still hadn't spotted her. Maybe, if she ran fast…?

Jones turned and looked at Montague again. He was wearing Muggle clothes for some reason, a black jumper this time and jeans. His trainers were propped on the railing in front of him, his overly tight jumper showing off his muscular form in an irritating fashion.

"Well, he's fit," Jones said, in the same tones she used when circling her players after holidays to make sure they hadn't indulged in too many puddings and pies. "Just make sure you don't let him knock you up before I modify Hellman's mind or find another Chaser to replace you."

"It was a one time thing," Katie said hastily, taking another step back. There was still time to flee. How had Montague even gotten permission to get in the practice stands?

"Bell, we've got another two hours of practice," Jones said, and it was very hard to tell with her, but did she sound amused at Katie's agony? "And Hellman's circling your man like a shark scenting chum," she added.

Katie took a step forward. The second string women had spotted Montague from where they'd been running sprinting drills nearby and Hellman, who was in possession of rather large breasts and pouty lips, had flown over to speak to Montague.

"Whatever," Katie said, coming to her senses, backing away again, "she can have him. I don't want him."

But, perversely, she couldn't stop watching the younger girl's attempts at flirting. Hellman was definitely not trying to kick out Montague from the practice field, judging by the way she was jutting out her chest and flipping her hair.

"I don't think your man _wants_ her to have him though," Jones said, and she was definitely trying not to to laugh now.

Montague had crossed his arms and was scowling. He looked away from Hellman, scanning the other woman flying again.

"He's not my man," Katie snapped again, ruder then she'd ever been to her Captain. But the sassier she got with Jones, the funnier Jones seemed to find her.

"Why not?" she said, "he's got sense. Look, he's trying to make Hellman and her tits go away."

Montague was visibly clenching his jaw with annoyance, and they both saw him making a shooing motion with his hand at Hellman. Katie couldn't help it. She snorted. Jones grinned at her, then eyed Montague again.

"Guys that pretty are either tigers or duds in the sack. Nothing in between. What did you get, Bell? A dud I'm guessing, since you don't want him."

"No he was-"

Katie clapped her hand to her mouth while Jones laughed. Why had she automatically defended Montague?

"Ahhh," Jones said, "he was so good you're in denial. Let me guess. This is some dumb Slytherin and Gryffindor thing. He's got that arrogant look to him, even if he's wearing Muggle clothes."

"Bingo," Katie said.

"Bingo?" Jones repeated.

"Er, sorry," Katie said, "It's a Muggle saying. It means, exactly. You've got it right."

"Well, there are worse guys to do a one-nighter with," Jones said, and Katie was forced to reevaluate her generally terrifying Captain all at once. Maybe all she'd had to do to win her over was act as big of a mess as possible.

"Flint, for one," Jones continued, as Katie kept edging to the safety of the locker room. "Good thing his attempt at getting you in bed was so terrible—Bell!"

Katie jumped.

"I told you practice isn't over," Jones said, and the ominous tone her in voice was far more familiar, "Get on your broom-"

"Katie!" Ginny shouted, and Katie closed her eyes in horror, "feeling better?"

She opened her eyes. Hellman was pouting, although it was unclear if it was due to Montague being rude or Katie being well enough to keep flying and denying her a spot on the first string today. Montague smirked at her, then stood, going to the rail.

"Bell!" he shouted, waving at her.

He was trying to smile sweetly, like a normal boyfriend showing up to practice would, but he was incapable of sweetness, and instead he looked unbearably smug. Plus, there was the weird fact that he'd called her by her last name. What boyfriend did that?

Everyone looked from her to Montague and back again. Hellman's expression darkened, but not nearly as badly as Ginny's did.

"Katie," she said, flying over and leaping off her broom next to her, "is that Graham Montague?"

"No," Katie said stupidly.

Of course it was Montague. Just because he'd lost some troll bulk and was wearing Muggle clothes, Ginny would know that it was Montague, even if they'd never faced off against each other in Quidditch.

Hellman leaned in close to Montague, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Get back to sprint drilling, Hellman!" Gwenog shouted, blowing her whistle. "Weasley, get back to dive drills!"

Ginny reluctantly mounted her broom, looking between Katie and Montague.

"We can talk about it later," she said ominously. Katie knew if there was one Weasley who'd react worse then George to her indiscretions, it was Ginny, a notorious hothead who'd had it out for every Slytherin for years.

"Get back to dive drilling," Jones said again, and Ginny hastily flew off. Everyone was scared of Gwenog.

"Thanks," Katie said, and Montague waved at her again.

"Take care of this, Bell," Gwenog said, "fast. Then get back to flying."

"Yes captain," Katie said dutifully, as Montague grinned at her in triumph when she mounted her broom, flying over. If she thought she could get away with ignoring him until he went away, she would. But she knew better.

"Hello, Bell," he said as Katie hovered in midair in front of him. "Did you-"

"What are you doing here?" Katie hissed, "are you trying to get me thrown off the team?"

"Thrown off the team?" Montague said, emphasizing each word with disbelief. "For what?"

"Banging morons," Katie said bluntly, "Jones will doubt my intelligence."

"And here I thought you were going to feign that you were blackout drunk the other night, Bell," Montague said delightedly, "and didn't remember a thing. I'm happily surprised."

"We both drunk sober up potions," Katie said, "how would I possibly pretend that I was black out drunk?"

"Gryffindor denial runs deep," Montague said sagely, "and you ignored me all day yesterday, didn't you?"

"I don't owe you anything," Katie said tightly, everyone was probably watching them still. It was so humiliating. They would be asking Ginny who Montague was. Hellman was probably still waggling her tits around. "I would send back your gifts but Ange and Alicia have taken most of it. Sorry."

"Not the candy knickers?" Montague said, eyebrows raised.

"Alicia snagged them immediately," Katie said.

"What a shame," Montague said, "I did want to eat those off of you."  
Katie went beet red.

"I'll send more," Montague said, "not a problem."

"Yes there's a problem," Katie hissed, "what's wrong with you?"

"Please be more specific," Montague said, "my father has a long list, for instance."

Katie fought a laugh. She changed track.

"Are you going to tell everyone?" she asked.

"Tell everyone what?" Montague said.

"Stop being difficult," Katie said, "I know that's your specialty, but I've got about two more minutes before Jones beats me with a Beater's bat for still talking to you. Are you telling all of your friends about fucking me?"

"Haven't you told your friends?" Montague asked.

"Not because I wanted to," Katie said angrily, "You knew what sending me those presents would do. You know I share a flat with Ange and Alicia. You're the one who showed up here where Ginny and all my teammates would see you."

"What's the problem?" Montague said irritatingly.

She'd believe his act, maybe, if he wasn't grinning like the arsehole he was.

"So _you _might want everyone to know I let you in my knickers like a...like a..." Katie faltered, "but I don't particularly want to be taunted with this by your little mates for the rest of my life."

"Taunted with what?" Montague said, putting his hands in his expensive Muggle jeans. Why was he always so relentlessly difficult?

"Well, presumably comments about my promiscuity," Katie said, face burning, "maybe crude comments on my body. Are you going to tell them details? Am I going to be faced with signs at my games about the color of my nipples or something?"

Montague frowned.

"Did you know the male Quidditch players have an ongoing bet on which one of them gets to sleep with the Harpies?" Katie continued. Her eyes felt wet. Oh god. No. "Were you in on that?"

"Bell, I haven't played Quidditch in many years," Montague said, slowly, "you know that. My brain got fucked up by that cabinet. I can't fly well anymore."

"Oh," Katie said, Montague was blurry. Her eyes were still full of tears, "I didn't know. That's awful."

"You really think that of me?" Montague demanded, "that I'd...what? Discuss the shape of your—y'know. With Flint?"

One tear fell from her eyes. Katie bit her lips so she'd stop.

"I'm not a fucking wanker," Montague said, while Katie wiped hard at her eyes. She could see clearly again. Montague looked really mad. "You think I want them to know what you're like in bed? What you look like naked?"

"Of course," Katie said finally, "I mean, it's a good laugh, right?"

"A laugh?" Montague said, "are you daft, Bell? Just because I was in Slytherin doesn't mean I wasn't taught how to be a gentleman."

"Bell!" Gwenog Jones screamed from across the field, "stop talking to pretty boy and get back to work!"

"I came here to ask you out to dinner," Montague said shortly, "but I see you think I've been composing owls with nude drawings of you and sending them to everyone I know in Slytherin."

"Dinner?" Katie said blankly.

"BELL!" Jones screamed.

"No, don't bother answering," Montague said, "you're right, I'm too busy writing a full length novel describing your tits and publishing it to take you to-"

"You're the one who wrote me those gross cards," Katie snarled, "about my legs shaking and Gryffindor men not doing it for me. About sending you my bra. Don't act all innocent."

"You're leaving out the line I apparently wrote demanding a three-way with Flint to win a bet," Montague retorted.

Katie gagged.

"BELL I SWEAR TO MERLIN!" Jones screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Pick me up at eight," Katie said abruptly, "wear Muggle clothes. I don't want to go to some dull wizard place. I want to go to a pub."

If Montague had gone this long without telling his mates, maybe the promise of dinner, the delusion of him getting more pieces of her arse would give her time to formulate a plan.

Montague grinned.

"Wear a dress," he told her, "hiding those legs should be criminal."

Katie gagged again.

* * *

As expected, Ginny cornered her after practice in the locker room. Montague had watched the rest of practice, clapping for Katie's successful maneuvers and goals, affecting boredom when Hellman pulled off an incredibly complicated trick right in front of him. He'd dutifully waved and left when practice was over, and Katie made her way to the locker room while her teammates bombarded her with questions and laughter on who he was, her heart pounding. If there had been even the slightest chance she could hide this dalliance with Montague, he'd ruined it by showing up to practice. Hellman was looking Katie up and down, her mouth twisted.

"He's just a friend," Katie kept repeating stubbornly, "an old school chum."

Ginny and Jones both knew she was lying, of course, but her Captain was above gossip and contained herself to one smirk at Katie before ordering them all to get in the showers since they reeked.

Ginny had kept silent, her brown eyes big and reproachful as Juliet and Marielle demanded to know more about Montague, and since Katie claimed he was single, could she pass along their names to him?

"What's his name again, Bell?" Hellman said sweetly, knowing Katie had ducked every attempt to identify Montague to her teammates.

"Graham Montague," Juliet said, "that's what Weasley said. You know him, Ginny?"

"Yes," Ginny said shortly, "he was the same year as my brothers at Hogwarts."

"Which brother?" Hellman said, still sweet as pie, but Ginny knew it was a dig about the amount of siblings she had just as much as Katie did.

"My murdered brother, Fred," Ginny said bluntly, "and his twin. Thank you for the reminder."

"Hellman stop being a twat and everyone get in the showers!" Jones had boomed from her office, and that had stopped that conversation.

Shelley had had a tragic date the weekend before she was dying to discuss and that had taken over the conversation after showers. Then Ginny had cornered her while everyone else trickled out.

"Does my brother know about this?" She demanded, hands on hips.

"George does, if that's who you mean," Katie said gloomily.

If only it had been Percy she'd told. He would have taken it a lot better.

"And he told you why he shoved Montague in that cabinet?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, the twins told us right after it happened. He tried to take points from Gryffindor," Katie said.

"No," Ginny said, "that's not why."

"What d'you mean?" Katie said, "that's what they told everyone."

"Not everyone," Ginny said grimly, "I know why they really did it. Ask him, before you get further entangled with Montague."  
"I'm not entangled with Montague," Katie said, face hot.

Sure she'd spent all of her Saturday night with the guy, half of it in his bed. And yeah, she'd accidentally made a date with him for pizza for next weekend. And of course, she'd just agreed to get dinner with him tonight…

"Oh no?" Ginny said. "Look Katie, I get it. My fifth year? I had at least five Slytherin boys ask me out. Sixth year they had to be more discreet, because of the whole Voldemort running the school thing, but I got even more Slytherin boys after me that year."

"Does Harry know that?" Katie said, curious.

"Harry was busy saving the world," Ginny said, "and anyway, nothing happened. But it was flattering. It felt exciting, like I was doing something wrong and dangerous. I get it. But stay away from Montague. Trust me."

"Can't you just tell me why George-"

"No," Ginny said, "I promised. Stop by the shop, ask him yourself. He's working. Ron might be helping out today so avoid him overhearing of course. Unless you want him to challenge Montague to a duel or something. You know how Ron is about Slytherins."

* * *

"Didn't know you were in the market for love potions, Katie," Ron Weasley said over her left shoulder.

Katie stood up from the bright pink bottles she'd been mesmerized by. They had spinning hearts on top.

"She's definitely not," George said, "has got too much of that already, eh Katie?"

"Indubitably," Katie said dryly.

Ron looked between her and George as the tension rose for reasons unknown to him. Thank god George had found out in front of Ange and Alicia. They'd only let him shout for a few moments before they had stormed to Katie's defense. But those few moments had been ugly. Fred's name and memory had been invoked. So had Colin Creevey's. Even Remus. Apparently, Montague had been quite cruel to him during the Slytherin Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. It had been the talk of George and Fred's year for a solid week.

After they'd gotten George to stop shouting, he'd switched to an even toned recital of every arsehole thing Montague had ever done. Even knowing Montague as Katie did, she'd been stunned by half of it. And there was _still _something George hadn't told her apparently. Yet, she'd agreed to let Montague take her out to dinner tonight. Perhaps it had been self preservation. It had been the desire to get him to shut up, to keep his nasty thoughts about her in the sack to himself until Katie had a plan that had made her suggest it. But perhaps part of Katie wanted to go out on a date with him. She couldn't figure it out.

"Something you needed, Katie?" George said evenly.

Ron frowned.

"Is that any way to talk to our friend?" he said, reaching forward and hugging Katie, who gratefully hugged him back. She wondered if Ron would be so ready with his hugs when he found out as well.

"I need to talk to you," Katie said to George.

"I think we already talked," he said coldly, as Ron released her.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron said, bewildered. A customer approached for help.

"It's fine," Katie said, forcing a smile, "we're having a little tiff between friends. It's OK, Ron."

"Be nice," Ron said to George sternly, and then he walked off to help the girl choose between flavors of U-No-Poo.

"We can talk in my office," George said, plucking a bottle from the shelf and leading Katie in. She felt a stab of guilt when she saw one of the many articles pinned on his wall was about the Harpies latest game. It wasn't because of Ginny. Ginny had been ill, and Hellman had had to fill in. Katie had scored three goals.

"I'm sorry for yelling," George said unexpectedly, "yesterday. I'm sorry I threw those unicorn knickers on the ground."

"Those were for Ange," Katie reminded him.

"I know," George said, "It just made me sick to think of her wearing something _he_ bought. Even for a lark."

He pushed the bottle he'd taken from the shelf at her.

"Drink this."

Katie turned it to read the label.

"A love potion antidote?" she said, "really?"

"Just drink it," George said, "please."

Katie sighed but gulped it down, wincing. It tasted like bottled tears and ashes.

George watched her closely. "Feeling better?"

"Not really," Katie said, "since Montague showed up to my practice today and everyone knows I have something going on with him. Even though I tried to lie."

George snorted. "I'm guessing Ginny took that well."

"Better then you did," Katie retorted, and George winced.

"So you feel the same?" he asked, "you're not disgusted that you slept with Montague, like a love potion wore off?"

"I was disgusted I slept with Montague the second it was over," Katie said, "if you really want to know."

"Ah," George said, rubbing his eyes.

"It was just...some weird misplaced energy," Katie said, "I dunno, I can't explain it."  
"Angelina said he'd been charming you all night," George said, which Katie thought was a rather charitable assessment by Angelina for her.

"Ginny said you shoved Montague in the cabinet for some other reason," Katie said, "it wasn't about the Inquisitorial squad and points. Did you know Montague can't fly because of that? It messed up his brain."

George snorted. "He's a bloody liar," he said, "I saw him flying after that. I just saw him last year, flying around some pure-blood mansion's gardens with his little arse-hole friends."

"Why were you at a pure-blood mansion?" Katie asked, her stomach dropping. George wouldn't lie to her about seeing Montague fly.

"Charity ball," George said, "I go sometimes. To help raise money for things the pure-blood lot will hate. It's hilarious, they can't say no when you bring up raising money for Muggle-born integration programs and Hermione's house-elf rights or else everyone will think they're a Death Eater that got away. So they trip over themselves to throw money at anything us 'heroes' suggest. I was thinking Fred might like a twenty foot statue in some particularly pure-blood establishment. For a laugh, you know."

"You sure it was Montague?" Katie asked. She felt stupid asking, and pathetic. But it hurt that she'd believed that lie like an idiot.

"Of course," George said, "he even yelled something about you at me."

"What?" Katie said, going clammy again, "what did he say? Why didn't you say any of this yesterday?"

"Well I thought you had better sense then to give him another shot," George said, "but if you're letting him hang around you at practice...Ginny was right to tell you, I guess."

"Ginny didn't tell me anything," Katie said bitterly, "she said to ask you."

George looked guilty. "Katie, I'm sorry," he said as gently as George Weasley ever said anything, "this is going to hurt you."

"I'll be fine," Katie said, "I'm a tough girl. I've killed Death Eaters, haven't I?"

"Yeah," George said, smiling a little, "we took out Selwyn together, remember?"

"I'll never forget," Katie said shivering. Sometimes she was proud. And sometimes she had nightmares.

"You can ask Oliver, too," George said, "about it. He knows some. Since...since I don't have anyone else to back up what I'm going to say."

The ghost of Fred Weasley was, as usual, larger than life.

"Some of what?" Katie said, "please just say it. Get it over with."

George sighed. "Well, the boys trash talked different then you all did, yeah? Not Harry I don't think. He was too young. And off saving the world all the time. And then when Ron and the others joined they weren't part of it. But me and Fred and Oliver, we had different discussions with the Slytherins then you girls did."

"Meaning?" Katie prompted.

"They said a lot of crude stuff," George said, "all of them except Malfoy and his little goons, they were too young at first. But Flint, Warrington, Pucey, Bletchley...Montague."  
"Higgs?" Katie said, thinking of her first real crush.

"Higgs? No. He was a decent guy. You should've fucked him last weekend instead, Katie."

"Probably," Katie said miserably, "and you're wrong, George, they said crude stuff to us mid game. 'Ride my broom' things like that."

"Well it was worse then that with us," George said, and then he made Katie's worst nightmare come true. "They had a bet going. There were tiers and everything. A kiss got you five points, a hand job got you fifteen… and so on," he trailed off when he saw the pallor of Katie's skin.

"And none of you told us this why?" Katie finally said, color rising again.

"Well, we knew none of you would do it," George said reasonably, "they were such wankers to you. There's no way it would work. I mean I don't know why they didn't try charming you instead, but we three agreed if they changed tactics to flowers and wooing we'd tell you." He held up a hand when Katie opened up her mouth to demand again why they hadn't just told them anyway.

"Fred got it in his head that Alicia would think it was funny to toy with them. You know, kiss one here or there and get them battling over points until they all lost it, turned on each other. Oliver agreed it would distract you three. I'm sorry, I knew we should've told you."

Katie thought about it as clearly as she could, which wasn't very since she was so sickened.

"Alicia might've done that," she conceded, "she would've thought it was funny. To get them dueling over her."

"Still," George sighed, "it was stupid not to tell you. So Montague did threaten to take points away, initially. He said he would take points away from us for being friends with Mudbloods."

Katie flinched. She knew Montague must say the word, but he hadn't, very carefully hadn't, since she'd run into him at the bar.

"He meant you and Hermione," George clarified, sticking the dagger in further.

"I got that," Katie said, through her clenched teeth. She refused to cry over this.

"But then-"

"There's more?" Katie exploded. She didn't know if she could handle that. This was bad enough.

"Yeah," George said, looking guiltier. "then he said he'd not take points if we helped him um..."

"Don't edit what he said," Katie said severely, correctly guessing what was causing the pause from George.

"...if we helped him get you to fuck him. Or er...other stuff. He wasn't picky, he said. Apparently you'd become the biggest points earner, so he wanted you so he could win. Then he asked us if we'd ever fucked you. He wanted to know what you were like in bed. Her asked us….er."  
"_What_?" Katie said, bile in her mouth again.

"...um. What Mudblood tasted like. So we shoved him in the cabinet. Told him to get bent. I told him to stay away from you. We didn't feel bad about it. I still don't."

"Can you hand me your waste basket," Katie said faintly, and when George hastily did she dry heaved three times, but nothing came out. Well that explained Montague's unexpected generous nature in bed.

"I'm sorry," George repeated helplessly, "I should've told you ages ago. But I never thought..."

"That I was easy and stupid," Katie said wretchedly.

"No, come on," George said, "don't do that. Don't talk about one of my best friends that way. The girl who kicked Death Eater arse and is brave and a great Quidditch player and is a loyal friend. No one gets to talk about that girl like that."  
Katie burst into tears.

Ron flung the door open, running in, wild eyed.

"George, what did you do!" he bellowed as Katie wept.

* * *

Her meltdown in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes combined with Montague showing up to her practice had led to three of the Weasley brothers descending on her flat with the girls. Ron had invited Percy when he'd heard what was going on, since his genius had been bent to less rule following and more mocking of Rita Skeeter as of late. Ginny, Hermione, and Harry had followed. Oliver had shown up last.

Katie was wearing a dress. It was floor length and covered in tiny buttons. Modest, by Muggle standards. She'd thrown on a baggy cardigan over it. Muggles would find this to be a very conservative look. God knows what Montague would interpret it as. But he'd insisted on a dress. Jerk.

"Wear a chastity belt of spikes," Ron said, "let him get that far, and then his dick will get cut off. Win win!"

"Ronald, you are an Auror," Hermione said.

"I'm on temporary hiatus," Ron reminded her. He'd taken off from his career to help George out for awhile, "I'm thinking like Fred."

"You wish," George muttered.

"Take a picture of his cock," Ginny said, "send it to the gossip mags. 'Tiny dicked pure-blood Slytherin arsehole can't keep it up.'"

"Who's going to read that?" Percy demanded.

"_Witch Weekly_ readers," Alicia said promptly, rubbing her hands together. They had exactly one hour before Katie's date. Montague had sent his owl with some more flowers, and a note saying he'd pick her up at the flat. He was going to get a nasty surprise.

"I can arrest him," Harry said, "for um..."

"Nothing?" Percy said waspishly, "as he hasn't broken a law we know of?"

"He's a terrible Quidditch player now," Oliver said triumphantly, "we can mock him with that!"

"I don't think he cares, Oliver," Ange said.

"We can get him disowned," Hermione said casually.

"Yes!" Ron said, clapping his hands together.

"For what?" Katie asked.

"Shaming the family name by wooing a Muggle-born," Hermione said, and Harry nodded vigorously.

"Won't work," Percy said flatly, "it's an old pure-blood tradition to er, sow wild oats before marriage. It won't surprise his family. Or disturb them."

"Well we have to do something!" Hermione cried, pounding the armchair.

Katie had been least comfortable having Hermione show up to this pow-wow she'd been forced into by Ron and George. She hadn't known Hermione well at all, for all she admired her. But it seemed her passion for fairness was riling her up mightily on Katie's behalf.

"We make fun of how ugly he is," Ron said.

"He looks good now," Ginny said grudgingly.

"Blackmail?" Ange suggested.

"Illegal," Percy said.

"Obliviation?" Harry tried.

"_Illegal_," Percy repeated.

"Threats of violence?" George said, cracking his knuckles.

"And actual violence?" Oliver said, stretching.

"ILLEGAL," Percy said.

"You got any better ideas, Perce?" Ron snapped.

Percy smirked, and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you so much for your support of this story! It really means a lot to read your reviews. I write for my own enjoyment and not widespread readership (or I'd obviously write different pairs lol) so it is really touching to get feedback on this rare pair that I love! :)


	5. Percy's Dastardly Plan

**Chapter Five:**** Percy's Dastardly Plan**

After they'd all agreed to Percy's deliciously evil and yet decidedly _legal _plan Alicia had tried to talk Katie into wearing the scandalous red dress they'd bought earlier in the day while Oliver, George, and Ron looked pained when they'd seen it on her. Katie supposed it was the amount of leg and clavicle she was flashing being wasted on Montague that had made them queasy. Hermione had come to her rescue by pointing out that this dress was far too much for a pub, no matter what their plan was.

After much debate, they'd settled on a black dress with a modest hemline.

"Alright, time for everyone to leave," Katie said.

She'd put her hair into a loose plait. She was wearing minimal makeup, not at all the club look Montague had seen from her on Saturday, or the sweaty, nauseous, makeup free look of the day before.

"I live here," Ange said.

"You know what I meant," Katie said.

Oliver had four chocolates in his mouth. Ron was juggling a trophy Katie had gotten as a Muggle raised nine year old kid for tap dancing. Hermione was perusing their bookshelf. Percy was looking over Katie with a critical eye. She'd never been a huge fan of Percy. No one was. But ever since Fred had died Percy had gotten a new lease on his personality. For one, he had a different relationship with authority. He was also prone to speaking his mind brutally in Ministry meetings. In the old regimes, this would've gotten Percy sacked. But Kingsley appreciated honesty. It helped that Percy was often, if not always, right in his cold, logical assessments of Ministry employees and policies.

"Trial run," Percy said as he looked Katie over like she was a particularly important report on cauldron bottoms, "we can adjust your look for next time if necessary."

Katie felt a strange combination of excitement and dread coursing through her. Next time. Next time with Montague. What was she thinking? What were they_ all_ thinking?

There was a knock on the door.

"Go," Katie hissed, making shooing motions at her friends. No one budged, aside from Ginny, who leapt to the door before Katie could comprehend what was happening.

"No," she said, "Ginny, don't-"

Ginny opened the door with some force. Katie tried at least to shove George away. He was most likely to instigate a fistfight.

"Hello Be—oh," Montague said flatly, as Katie rushed to Ginny's side, "are you doing so poorly with money that you've moved the She-Weasley in for extra cash, Bell?" he asked.

Katie winced. Just what she needed. Proof in front of her friends that Montague was still a raging arsehole. Not that anyone had needed that reminder aside from her own stupid arse.

"You could've just asked me for help," Montague said, looking at Ginny like she was toenail fungus on the foot of Professor Trelawney.

"I'm not your hooker," Katie said, riled, "I don't need you to-"

Percy, who'd presciently followed her to the door, pinched her elbow hard. Well, she supposed laying into Montague went against the agreed upon plan.

Montague looked nice again, damn him. He'd worn a dress shirt that might make him look like a stuck up jerk in a Muggle pub, but did bring out the blue in his eyes. He held yet another bouquet of flowers. This one had little fake butterflies flying about the multi colored sunflowers. Katie wanted to hate it. She wanted to tell him she didn't have the taste of a five year old girl. But one of the butterflies was metallic purple with silver glitter!

"Ah," Montague said, "Poncy Weasley. Can't say I'm glad to see you."

"Percy," Ron corrected, stepping forward. Montague stepped in the door, looking around.

"May I ask why the Gryffindor do-gooder brigade is here?" he drawled. "Is this all for me? How flattering."

Because Katie was watching for it, she saw the weird little smirk he sent to George and Oliver only, and that was enough to harden her heart. So what if Montague was infuriating but charming? So what if he was kind of a good kisser? He was awful. Disgusting. And the revenge she'd planned with her friends seemed less cruel with this knowledge.

Katie thought about Montague asking the twins about the taste of her Mudblood pussy and had to stop herself from slapping him again. He'd probably already sent an owl to his little friends with a detailed answer. Her skin crawled.

"Just here to threaten you," Harry said casually, hands in his pockets.

Maybe, at one point, little Harry Potter in his round glasses and absurd hair threatening Montague would've made him laugh. But not now. Not when Harry Potter had defeated the most evil wizard of all time at the age of seventeen.

"Duly noted that I'm so terrifying I need to be threatened for taking your mate out to dinner," Montague said, thrusting the flowers at Ginny. "Put these in water after you strip them down for signs of dark magic, would you Weasley?"

Katie knew things were about to get ugly. They'd all agreed to the plan, sure, but no one else had to tolerate Montague's presence with pleasantness to enact it.

"Let's go," Katie said, shoving Montague out the door while grabbing her purse. "See you later," she bellowed over her shoulder as her friends protested, slamming the door behind her. She reached out to shove Montague again before someone (most likely someone with no control like Ron or Alicia or George) would barge into the hallway and demand a duel with Montague. Montague moved his own hand to grasp Katie's that was on his lower back, pushing him away from her flat. Katie expected him to smack her hand away with a snide quip. Instead, he grabbed it, and she was holding hands with Graham Montague. Like they were on a normal date.

On instinct, she tried to pull her hand away, and Montague squeezed back.

"Relax, Bell," he said, "I'm not contagious."

"So a man afflicted with dragon pox would say," Katie retorted.

"Where, exactly, was I hiding the dragon pox on Saturday night?" Montague said. "Didn't you see everywhere?"

Katie grimaced. She had.

"So where are we going?" Montague asked as they walked down the stairs and onto the street. He glanced at her. "You look nice."

"Thank you," Katie said. She'd almost made a smart remark. It was a surprise that Montague was complimenting her modest and vaguely girlish look when he'd been so enticed by her heavy eye makeup and short skirt look of a few nights ago. She took a deep breath, thinking of Percy's idea. "You look nice too."

"I always look nice," Montague retorted.

"So do I," Katie said, needled. She wondered if everyone was watching out of one of the bedroom windows and saw them holding hands. If so, she hoped someone had smelling salts for Ron.

"Actually you looked like hell earlier," Montague said.

"Thanks," Katie said sarcastically, dropping her hand out of Montague's with some effort. He didn't want to let go. "You know, every time I start to think you're not a horrible arsehole you just have to do to something to remind me that you are."

Montague tried to catch her hand again, and Katie knew she should let him but she was too mad.

"Bell-"

"I mean, you're your own worst enemy, you know that?" Katie said. "If you wanted to get under my skirt at school, maybe you could've tried being nice instead of being a grotesque jackass."

Well. There went the plan.

Montague halted outside of a coffee shop, and Katie forced herself to stop too, her arms crossed.

"Who said I wanted to get under your skirt at school?" Montague demanded. "You looked like a scrawny spider, Bell."

"I knew you meant Katie Long Legs as an insult!" Katie said, throwing up her hands.

"I meant everything as an insult then," Montague said, "I was kind of a twat in school, in case you didn't notice."

"Funny enough, I did," Katie said, walking away again. "C'mon, The Cawing Raven is up ahead."

"We're going to a Ravenclaw pub?" Montague said dryly.

"But of course," Katie said, "neutral territory. Also, their shepherd's pie is fantastic."

"I do love a good shepherd's pie," Montague said.

Katie's heart was racing. Apparently she was less equipped to trick Montague when she was so mad about the Slytherin players bet that she'd referenced it, even obliquely.

"Anyway," Montague said, after they'd walked another half block in silence, Katie's arms still crossed, "I wasn't trying to insult you. You looked sick earlier. Were you ill?"

"Hungover," Katie said shortly, "I spent most of Sunday trying to drink away what happened the night before."

Montague laughed. "I need to buy you a box of after drinking potions, Bell. Clearly you're unequipped for heavy drinking."

"Thanks for your concern," Katie said, then after a moment, she added, "Jones was worried I was pregnant. Cause of the vomit."

"Give me some credit Bell, I can cast a Contraceptive Charm in my sleep," Montague snorted.

"I didn't say I was worried," Katie said, cringing at the implication that she was one of many women that Montague had cast the charm on in bed.

"Yeah, sure," Montague said, "then why bring it up?"  
"You asked why I looked ill!" Katie said, nettled, "See? Why are you being such a -"

"I didn't impregnate you," Montague said, "I know better."

Katie knew he probably meant that in an innocent fashion, but all she heard was that he knew better then to impregnate Muggle-born trash like her. After all, she was only good for a salacious shag. He _knew better._

"Good," she said instead, voice clipped.

"Yes, you sound thrilled," Montague said, "Bell, do my ears deceive me, or are you sad I didn't knock you up? I must admit we'd make very good looking Quidditch players, but-"

"You're hopeless," Katie said, "yes, I'm devastated my one-night stand with my mortal enemy didn't end my Quidditch career before it's barely begun. Tell me, how fast would your mum faint when you told her?"

"Will you stop bringing up my mother," Montague said with exasperation.

"I'll do what I like," Katie said, walking faster. Montague yanked gently on her plait. "Hey!"

"Alright," Montague said, as Katie turned around from the yank, "that's about enough of this."

Before Katie could reply he'd pushed her against the brick wall between a donut shop and a newspaper stand and kissed her.

Katie turned her face away. "What are you doing," she hissed. Montague was kissing down her neck now. A mother nearby covered her child's eyes.

"Relieving the obvious sexual tension," Montague said against her neck, "so we can continue our date like normal people."

"Date?" Katie said weakly, as Montague picked the spot where her neck met her shoulder and sucked.

"Yes, that's usually what we call it when a bloke shows up with flowers to take you out to dinner, Bell," Montague said, pulling back a bit again to answer her. "I know we did this backwards, with the shagging and all first, but I didn't think you'd be as daft as you're being."

"Meaning?" Katie said, pushing Montague's chest so he took a step back. A nearby teenage boy winked at her.

"Well, you said one-night stand earlier," Montague shrugged, "you seem confused about what this really is."

"What is it?" Katie said.

Why did she sound breathy? She'd feel more pathetic about it, but wasn't her being breathy with girlish glee good for Percy's devious plan?

"For one, I'd hoped to get a byline in the latest article about the noble Katie Bell, war heroine and star of the Harpies," Montague said sarcastically, "as your dashing new boy toy. Who is that mysterious hunk, all the women would ask themselves as they drooled over a picture of us. Why, it's that dastardly Slytherin dreamboat, Graham Montague, sweeping Gryffindor's golden girl off her feet with his wealth and-"

"Oh shut up," Katie groused, "I'm hungry." She pushed past Montague, "and I'd like an honest answer."

"I'm a Slytherin," Montague said, "I don't do honesty."

"I know," Katie said darkly.

She wondered how much money he'd won by fucking her the weekend before. Was the bet still active? It had been years, of course, but…

"And besides," Montague said, reaching for her hand again, drawing it out of Katie's clasped arms, "have you been honest why you're going out to dinner with me tonight, Bell?"

"No," Katie said immediately, "but I assumed you'd think I had uncontrollable lust for you."

"Maybe if you hadn't snuck out of my flat in the dead of night like a thief, I would," Montague returned.

"I wasn't looking forward to you mocking me when you woke up," Katie admitted, "we're here."

Montague squinted at the purple sign of a raven with its beak wide open. "This is a Muggle pub?" he said.

"Of course," Katie said, "they have the best food." Montague temporarily become possessed by a Gryffindor boy and held the door open for her.

"I was up for another round, actually," Montague told her casually as they made their way to the bar for menus. "But then there I was. All ready to go with Katie Long Legs and she's gone. Nothing but a pair of bright pink candy floss to prove you'd been there."

"I'd like those back," Katie said stiffly as they made their way to a tiny booth, looking at their menus.

"Absolutely not," Montague said, "finders keepers. Also, I plan on framing them. Hanging them on my wall as a memento."

Katie knew him well enough to know he was probably joking. Maybe.

"You just insulted my body again," she said instead, "great way to obtain another round."

"Well now your legs are sexy as hell," Montague said, eyes scanning the menu, "not giraffe legs. So it's become a compliment. Keep up with me, Bell."

"Thanks," Katie said sourly, "you're so suave. Really. Gives me the tingles."

"Clearly it does, Bell," he said looking at her with one eyebrow cocked, "I mean, it worked Saturday, didn't it?"

"Stop reminding me," Katie said through her teeth.

"I mean, it's working now, yes? Since you're at the pub with me?"

"I'm not sleeping with you," Katie said.

"I know," Montague said amiably, "your friends are all at your flat. I'll have to get you back in a reasonable time frame for your virginal reputation."

Katie's face burned. She couldn't think of a retort. It was like Montague had stripped her bare of all defenses. He got up to order them food and drinks and she sat there, feeling queasy and ashamed. She had fucked him when he was being a jerk, run away like a coward, gone on a date with him even though he was still an ass, and she _had_ planned on going back soon so no one would think she was sleeping with Montague tonight. She felt cheap.

Montague returned, the look on his face telling Katie he was either about to insult the pub, Katie some more, or most likely both, until he caught sight of her facial expression.

"Oh, cheer up Bell," he said, "I'm the idiot spending a fortune on a Muggle-born girl who hates me, hoping to change that."

"It's not _your _fortune," Katie said.

"No, it's not," Montague said, "thank you for reminding me. Not like my father helps me forget."

Katie felt six insults at the tip of her tongue. She swallowed a sip of her ale instead.

"Well buck up," she said, "think of how mad your father would be knowing his money is being spent on a dirty Gryffindor Mudblood."

Montague laughed shortly, but there wasn't much real humor in it.

"He'd be madder if my brothers weren't even bigger disappointments then me," he said finally, taking a swig of his drink.

Katie had entered an alternative universe, one in which Graham Montague was sitting in a Muggle pub with her in Muggle clothes talking about being a disappointment to his father.

"What did your brothers do?" she asked.

"Well, Christopher likes men," Montague said after another large swig of his ale, "and he's so far refusing to marry a woman for posterity. He's threating to date a boy openly, actually. A Hufflepuff. Half-Blood. Father is threatening to disown him of course. And then Frankie is dating an American. She's a Half-Blood too. Father is threatening to disown him as well. Frankie also got a job in the Muggle relations department under Arthur Weasley. And almost worse than that...he has the audacity to enjoy it."

"Horrors," Katie said.

"So you see, Bell, me dating a Muggle-born girl with a good career and a spotless heroic reputation who is close friends with the savior of the wizarding world is frankly, hardly a blip to my father at this point," Montague said.

"Are we dating?" Katie asked.

Montague didn't reply. He was spared by their food arriving.

"Do you want to be?" he said finally, after they'd both taken their first bites.

"Do you?" Katie volleyed.

"I asked first," Montague said stubbornly.

"You brought it up," Katie said reasonably. "But I assume your answer is yes. I mean, you practically wore a t-shirt saying 'Mr. Katie Bell' in front of all my teammates today. They didn't believe me when I tried to say that you were just a friend."

"I should wear that to your next game," Montague said, "as long as next time I have some hellish pure-blood cotillion to go to you come and wear either a Muggle t-shirt that says 'Mrs. Graham Montague' or some scandalous Muggle dress."

"Like this?" Katie said innocently, gesturing to her black dress.

"Although the older crowd would still find you to be a harlot in that, no," Montague said, taking another bite of his shepherd's pie, "you've got to show a lot more than that."

"I've got a new red dress actually," Katie said with effected calm. Why was her heart racing again? "It's dark red. Goes down to here," she mimed the deep v of the neckline and Montague paused eating, "and it's far shorter than this one."

"Perfect," Montague said, after a moment, "I'll go find some ostentatious ruby jewelry of mother's for you to wear down-" he gestured to her cleavage as well. There was a look in his eyes that Katie was half scared by. "Mother hates the ruby heirlooms, but they'd look fantastic on you."

"Great," Katie said, continuing the game, "I'll get your shirt made in pink glitter. You can wave some flags for me while I score goals."

"I wasn't joking Bell," Montague said with a frown.

"Oh, uh-huh," Katie said blithely, "and then we can elope, how about that? Be on the front pages of the gossip rags?"

"I'm serious," Montague said, "I don't plan on suffering through another pure-blood function without you there to entertain me. Maybe you can keep the rubies. Would that be enough to get you to go?"

"Of course," Katie said, "and then you can tell your father you've knocked me up at our wedding, eh? Tainting the Montague line with a Half-blood."

"You'd have to let me up your dress again for that to happen, Bell," Montague said, "are you saying you're amenable now?"

"Definitely," Katie said, "how about now? On the table?"

"I'm still eating," Montague said, "but if you pull up your dress some maybe I can put my hand-"

"You think I won't slap you in public," Katie said evenly, "in front of Muggles. But I will. Don't underestimate me."

Montague laughed. "Save it for the cotillion, Bell. Give the pure-bloods a show."

"You were being serious?" Katie said, "You want me around your fancy friends?"

"Let's not stretch the definition of 'friend,'" Montague said, "and I said I was being serious about six times already Bell. Has your short term memory been affected?"

"Maybe," Katie shrugged, "they never fully figured out what happened to me because of that necklace."

"Nor me with the cabinet," Montague said shortly.

"Are you still friends with Malfoy?" Katie asked. She could put up with a lot of things for the sake of the plan. But she wasn't sure if she could tolerate that.

"Again, you're reaching for that 'friend' label Bell," Montague said, "but if I was...so what? You're still friends with George Weasley, aren't you? No, don't answer that. I know you are. I saw him at your flat."

"He's dating Angelina," Katie pointed out, "my roommate."

"And his dead twin brother's ex girl," Montague said cruelly, "an interesting choice."

"Don't you start that too," Katie warned.

"Well don't control who I'm friends with, Bell," Montague said, "we've been on two dates. At least wait a month before you start dressing me like a doll and hating my friends."  
"We've been on half a date," Katie corrected, "you seem like you're doing fine dressing yourself. And I've always hated your friends. You've always hated mine. And me, for that matter."

"Hate's a strong word," Montague said, drinking some more of his ale.

"But no less accurate," Katie said.

"It is inaccurate," Montague snapped, "I don't hate you. Salazar Bell, it's like you all get sorted into Gryffindor and your common sense dies."

"You hate my friends," Katie insisted.

"Not really," Montague said, "I find Wood a little deranged but I respect his dedication to Quidditch. Spinnet is kind of an entertaining disaster. Johnson is a standard Gryffindor. Uptight and self-righteous. I'm not a huge fan. Put Poncy Weasley and his little brother and sister in that category. But the golden duo of Gryffindor, they're interesting. Did you know Granger cast a hex on some Ravenclaw's face that's never healed? And of course Potter has been prone to some nasty stuff that everyone overlooks. Being such a hero and all."

"I wouldn't insult Harry in front of me if I were you," Katie said angrily.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Montague said, "that wasn't an insult. I'm a Slytherin, remember? Of course, I do detest George Weasley, I'll give you that one. And his dear departed brother."

Katie stood up, her napkin balled in her fist.

"Oh, sit down, Bell," Montague said, "I didn't mean to offend you. We don't have to talk about your devotion to the Weasley twins. I'm not friends with Malfoy. I never have been."

Katie sat down.

"Good," she said, voice shaking with suppressed rage. If she hadn't slept with Montague, needing a plan to deal with her idiocy, she'd have left by now. Her ale would be all over Montague's face and expensive shirt. "Because I expect a guy I'm...dating to not be friends with the boy who tried to murder me. I spent months in St. Mungo's, you know? I almost lost my chance at professional Quidditch."

"Fancy that," Montague retorted, "because _I_ am currently seeing a girl who is best mates with a bloke who shoved me into a dangerous magical object that could've killed me. I too, ended up in the hospital wing and then St Mungo's. Wouldn't you know it; it actually _did_ end my Quidditch career. You don't see me asking you to drop George Weasley, do you?"

"I didn't do anything to deserve it," Katie said. It sounded so horrible when Montague said it like that. "You did."

"Did I?" Montague said, "I'm sorry that I don't think trying to take some points merited the punishment I got. Punching me in the face for being an arrogant little snot? Sure. I'll admit it. I deserved that. But-"

"You did nothing else?" Katie said, leaning forward, her heart racing like crazy. "Nothing else? That's what you're claiming?"

Montague stared her in the eyes, but Katie refused to look away.

"Oh," he said flatly, "I see. Weasley has made up some lie to you about why they pushed me into that cabinet."

"A lie," Katie repeated. She knew she was ruining Percy's plan, but she couldn't help herself.

"A lie," Montague repeated, color rising in his neck, "although I'm not sure what lie. Care to enlighten me?"

"No," Katie said, "maybe your memory will return later on."

"Maybe," Montague said, "and maybe Weasley will admit to you that he's trying to sabotage our relationship."

"What relationship?" Katie said, "We had sex. It was weird."

"Now we're on a date," Montague said, "and you're taking me out for piazzi on Saturday."

"Pizza," Katie corrected.

"Whatever," Montague said, "so it's a relationship, Bell. Tell your inner uptight do-gooding Gryffindor conscience to drop dead."

"Are you friends with the rest of them?" Katie asked, "Flint, Warrington, Pucey-"

"Am I not allowed to have friends, now?" Montague said, throwing his hands in the air. "Bell, I'm not going to show up to your next Gryffindor gathering in a lion shirt. Please be reasonable."

"I just find it odd," Katie said, "that you're spending your weekends alone at Muggle clubs. In Muggle clothes. You seemed very familiar with the money and how things are. Too familiar for it to be your first time. You showed up to my practice in Muggle clothes. How are your pure-blood mates feeling about all that?"

"They don't know," Montague said, "as you've very well guessed. Ten points to Gryffindor."

"So why are you doing it?" Katie asked.

"You got me," Montague said, "I've been stalking Muggle clubs for months to try to find you. Clearly."

"Oh fuck off," Katie said, "just answer a question honestly for once."

"I told you Saturday," Montague shrugged, "It's boring being a pure-blood. So I tried something new. I liked it. So I keep doing it."

"Is that what I am?" Katie asked, "You trying something new because you're bored?"  
"Isn't that what I am to you?" Montague asked.

"I don't know," Katie said, "I'm thinking it was temporary insanity."

"Or maybe you're sick of the usual," Montague said, "doesn't it get old, Bell? Being the beloved well behaved heroine? Always upholding the righteous Gryffindor way? Associating with the same people, never trying something new-"

"I think you're talking to yourself," Katie said flatly, "I've been going to Muggle clubs for years. You, on the other hand, are so bored with pure-blood bullshit that you've adopted a new identity for fun, slept with a Muggle-born enemy, and are now trying to get her to go some pure-blood functions with bribery to liven up your life. Am I wrong?"

"No," Montague said, "but I'm not wrong either, Bell. So let's enjoy our little rebellions and have fun together, yeah?"

Katie's blood pumped hard. She pictured herself showing up to some pure-blood ball in her red dress, dripping in rubies that were Montague family heirlooms as Flint and company marked off her as a win on Montague's scorecard. Why was he still trying? Did he get bonus points for multiple times? Did she not do some act that would get him triple points? Percy Weasley's face swam into view in her brain.

"Yes, I've got a plan," Percy had said, "manipulate Montague into falling in love with you. Then he won't wave your knickers around, if you're his girl. Make it public. Get him in trouble with his friends and family. Then dump him. Humiliate him. Break his heart. Get your revenge, Katie."

Montague was watching her carefully.

"Yes," Katie said finally, "let's have some fun."

* * *

**Author's note:** I'm having SO much fun writing this and I'm happy that the ten of you reading this are enjoying it so far too! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this latest update. :)


	6. Beekeeper Haute Couture

**Chapter Six:**** Beekeper Haute Couture**

It hadn't taken long for Graham Montague to ruin Katie's life. Every day she expected to receive an owl from Flint telling her that she should've chosen him over Montague, that his broom was far bigger and more impressive to ride.

She read her press coverage with a knot in her stomach, waiting for the article about her new scandalous relationship. She cringed whenever an owl delivered mail, expecting a Howler from her friends disappointed in her for involving herself with a Slytherin, or a pure-blood who was angry at her for tainting one of their most eligible specimens. She expected Montague to finally tell her that the whole thing was a cruel joke.

And every day it didn't happen her fear grew greater, her certainty that her whole life would become such a shameful mess that she couldn't even fly at a game without someone waving a sign at her about her sexual performance. But it didn't happen. It seemed Jones's long standing forbiddance of her players gossiping about each other to anyone out of the Harpy family was holding up to the test. So she'd made it to Saturday, and Montague had gone with her to get pizza, Katie wearing a slightly more flesh revealing dress then the time before, the instructions from her friends on how to toy with Montague ringing in her ears.

"This is the food of the gods," Montague said, his eyes wide, after swallowing his first slice of pizza. "Tell me Bell, how is your arse not the size of the Forbidden Forest when you get to eat Muggle food all the time?"

"Some people would say it is," Katie said, playing with her straw wrapper. She wondered if Montague expected her to sleep with him again tonight. She wondered if she wanted to.

"As someone who's seen it quite well, it's a glorious arse," Montague said, "no matter the size."

"Sounds like you're calling it massive," Katie said, raising a brow, trying to shake off the sense of doom that had been hanging over her for days and attempting some feeble banter.

"Just take a compliment Bell," Montague said, then took another bite of pizza, closing his eyes in pleasure for a second while he chewed.

"How was your week?" Katie asked stiffly. This was one of the strangest things that had happened to her in ages. Sleeping with the enemy, who she knew had made a grotesque bet on her some years before, back when he'd been an open bully and bigot, trying to make small talk like she didn't want to stab him in the eye with a fork.

"Boring," Montague said, opening his eyes, "I've been counting the seconds to see you again all week."

Something squirmed in her stomach, and Katie felt angry with herself and with Montague. How dare he try to charm her like this when he was a liar? When he'd planned on humiliating her when he got what he wanted, ruining her life? And how dare her stomach flutter like she'd been flattered by this obvious attempt of Montague's to get her pliable and into his ridiculous mansion like flat again?

"Smooth," Katie said, "so enlighten me Montague, what does a rich unemployed pure-blood do with all of his free time?"

"Please make me sound like more of a loser, Bell," Montague snorted, pausing to take a sip of his soda with a cautious expression. "What is this?" he exclaimed, staring down at his coke in surprise.

"Liquid sugar," Katie said.

"Again, and your arse isn't the size of Goyle's neck, I'm impressed, Bell!"

"I work hard," Katie shrugged, "on the pitch. Burns a lot of calories."

"Cal-ore-ees?" Montague sounded out carefully.

Katie pinched the bridge of her nose. From experience, trying to explain calories to a witch or wizard who had grown up with no Muggle education or Muggle family members was an exercise in torture.

"You didn't answer what you do all day, Montague," she said instead, "I can bang my head against the wall explaining calories to you after."

Montague tried to do a bored shrug, like his answer meant nothing to him. But Katie had seen his eyes shift from left to right first.

"Whatever lie is about to come out of your mouth, stop it and replace it with the truth," Katie said sternly. She knew if her friends were around to overhear this they'd be disappointed in her for failing at being sweet enough to make Montague fall in love with her. But she knew Montague better than her friends. Montague didn't want a sweet girl. It would be kind of liberating to know that someone was attracted to Katie's abrasive honesty, if that person wasn't a lying sack of shit.

"Fine," Montague said, and then he grinned, "Perceptive as always, Bell. Sometimes I wonder if you're really a Gryffindor."

"My war record says so," Katie said shortly.

"It wasn't only Gryffindors who fought," Montague pointed out.

"You're right," Katie said sweetly, "I forgot about all the noble Slytherins who fought for Voldemort."

"You know Bell, we were getting along really well I thought," Montague snapped, "and now you're picking a fight for no reason. May I ask why?"

"You just said it was for no reason," Katie said, still with that sickly sweet voice her mates had forced her to practice. She batted her eyes for good measure, "who am I to argue with your wisdom?"

"You're impossible Bell," Montague snorted, picking up his pizza slice again, "why do I even bother with you?"

"I don't know; why do you?" Katie asked, stopping her eye fluttering. She was getting dizzy.

"Everyone else is boring," Montague said, "also, you're great in bed."

Katie gagged. "Such gentlemen, you pure-bloods."

"Sorry," Montague said, sounding contrite. He put down the pizza again, and took her hand with his other, non-pizza greased hand. The giant Montague crest ring dug into her. Montague's eyes were soft. "You wanted the truth. Well, the truth, Katie, is that I've had a thing for you for ages. Since third year and I saw you across the pitch, a little stick on a broom dodging bludgers and scoring goals. So I've been wanting this a long time."

Katie felt sick. She knew what she would've done if she was acting like herself. Laughed, for one, made a crack about what a liar Montague was. But her mates would tell her to blush. Drop her eyes from Montague's gaze, look flattered. Her lips parted.

Montague burst out laughing, dropping her hand. It felt like a bludger to the gut.

"You almost looked like you bought that!" he said to her between chortles. "Did you get hit in the head in practice today, Bell?"

"I'm just admiring the lengths you're going to to avoid answering that you spend your days wanking alone and rolling around in piles of your daddy's money," Katie said evenly, forcing herself to take a bite of pizza even though she wasn't sure her stomach would let it stay down. She hated Montague. She _hated _him. Maybe she could Obliviate him and have done with it. It was against the law to Obliviate another witch or wizard but surely Kingsley Shacklebolt would understand, once he interacted with Montague for three minutes?

Montague sighed with exaggerated effect. "I spent Monday before dinner with you playing Gobstones with Adrian Pucey, while his mother paraded Adrian's sister around me in a series of increasingly revealing robes to get my attention. She's getting to spinster age, you know."

"What, nineteen?" Katie sneered.

Montague's mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. "Even worse, Bell, twenty-one. She's almost a dried up old maid, poor girl. Horrors."

"I must be past saving to Mrs. Pucey," Katie said dryly.

"But of course," Montague said, "Gryffindor, Muggle-born, and...what? Twenty-two with no husband? You're practically dead, Bell. Buy your casket now."

"Already picked out," Katie said, "I turned nineteen and thought oh no, it's over, no man will want me now, might as well do something unfeminine and common like play Quidditch so I can afford my spinster life."

"Wise girl," Montague said, "like I said, not quite a Gryffindor. On Tuesday, I did wank I'll give you that. You showed up to dinner looking delicious and I couldn't stop thinking about what another taste would be like."

Try as she might, Katie couldn't stop her blush. Montague had changed the rules out of nowhere!

"After that sad display on my part I joined Terence Higgs, your main sexual fantasy, for lunch served by house elves on silver plates. Terribly ostentatious to you I'm sure, quite pedestrian for the Higgs family. I'm afraid you wouldn't fit in there Bell, so better let go of that dream."

"Noted," Katie said sarcastically, "but my fantasies about Higgs usually involved more nudity and less eating off silver plates while some house elf beats its head against the floor for burning a single potato."

It was Montague's turn to get red in his cheeks, though Katie knew the redness spreading on his cheekbones was more from irritation that she'd made a sexual comment about another man.

"Afterwards," Montague said, voice clipped, "Mrs. Higgs had her three female nieces prance around me and giggle. They are all apparently in desperate need of marrying, even though they haven't even graduated Hogwarts yet."

Katie grimaced.

"My reaction exactly, "Montague said, "one didn't even have any hips. Because she was _still a __child._

I was then dragged to a dinner party at the Malfoy family mansion where stuffy pure-bloods congratulated each other on being superior while barely keeping themselves from saying how much they missed the old days in front of the three token Muggle-borns they'd invited for posterity. At some point, five different matriarchs tried to convince me to marry some single relative of theirs."

"Must be difficult being you," Katie said, taking another bite of pizza.

"On Wednesday, I was dragged to a tea party for old biddies run by my Aunt Viola where mysteriously everyone wanted to speak about the single girls in their lives some more while attempting to pinch my bum. I escaped out the window of the bathroom on the first floor and made my way to_ The Shivering Grindlylow_, which is-"

"A rich boy's club," Katie said, irritated that Montague thought her so uncouth that she'd never heard of the fancy hellhole in which spoiled rich boys did god knows what. It wasn't like any of her friends could afford to join aside from maybe Harry.

"I drank away my sorrows with some mates, and then-"

"What sorrows?" Katie laughed. "All those women being flung at you?"

"Well recently, there's a bird that's playing hard to get when I've already got her, for one," Montague said.

Katie felt her face heat up again.

"I'm not playing hard to get," she said through her teeth, "and you don't _have me_, for the record."

"You realize that sentence just proved my point Bell, yes?" Montague said irritatingly.

"So you talked about me?" Katie demanded, leaning forward, somehow her fork was in her hand. "To your little mates?"

"Oh here we go again," Montague said with another eye roll, "I was wondering when you were going to beat that dead unicorn some more. Haven't we already agreed I have no plans to draw a diagram of your naked body and wave it about, Bell?"

"I said nothing about drawing diagrams," Katie retorted, her hand holding the fork so tightly her palm started sweating, "I said talked to them about-"

"Again, my little hypocrite, haven't you discussed me with roughly half of Gryffindor by now?" Montague asked.

"Ange and Alicia begged for details of what you're like in bed if you really want to know, and I didn't tell them a thing," Katie said.

"Well, neither did I," Montague said, "in fact, I, unlike you, didn't speak of you at all. They tried to find out where I went on Saturday and Monday night. And where I was going tonight. I lied."

"Thanks," Katie said, "I do love being your dirty secret."

"Oh, so now you're mad I'm _not t_alking about you?" Montague said, "Merlin, Bell, pick one thing to be mad at me about and stick with it, would you? I can send an owl to Cassius Warrington right now if you want... 'Dear beloved fellow arsehole, I'm currently staring at Katie Bell's magnificent legs, you remember them, and pretending they're wrapped around me like they were last Saturday. I'll give you more details when we meet to get our nails done next week. Kisses, your hunky best friend, Graham.'"

"I'm just saying," Katie said, because she both wanted to laugh and kick Montague and couldn't pick which one, "if we _were _dating, I bet you would hide it from shame."

"Bell, we are on a date _right now_," Montague said, "the cheapest one I've ever been on, yes, but the food's the best. Also, the view." He deliberately gave her a provocative once over. "Ergo, we are dating, yes?"

"I suppose," Katie said grudgingly.

"And," Montague continued with a sort of relentless doggedness, "I was strongly under the impression you wanted to hide _me _from everyone. That you wanted my friends to never know about us. That you're ashamed of me. Or have you changed your mind?"

"I'm not ashamed," Katie lied, and Montague raised his left eyebrow, "I just don't want to deal with the mess at games. You don't understand. People already don't take us seriously, being an all-woman team. And they already take every opportunity to mess with us on the field, in the stands, in the press..."

"Bell, like you'd get tormented for snagging one of the wizard world's most eligible bachelors," Montague scoffed, "you might jealous hate mail, but-"

"So how was the rest of your week?" Katie asked loudly, but she knew by the look Montague leveled on her that he knew what she was doing, that she'd changed the subject because she knew she didn't make sense.

"On Thursday," Montague said, "I attended an opening of the new wing at St Mungo's named after Slytherin's greatest hero, Severus Snape."

Katie ignored the sarcasm in his voice.

"During said opening, I shook hands with a bunch of influential people while my father paraded me around, pretending he was proud of his heir. Cornelius Fudge cornered me and tried to make me marry his granddaughter."

"Isn't she twelve?" Katie said, disgusted.

"Thirteen, but gross enough," Montague said. "On Friday, I was particularly tortured with an engagement party held for Daphne Greengrass and Gerald Urquhart. Mainly I spent my time helping comfort Urquhart with the rest of my mates as he tried to drink himself to death. Today I was dragged to my cousin Isobel's daughter's first birthday, wherein the women kept commenting on her post birth figure in rude terms and bragging about their own boring babies. I was continually asked about the status of my own future marriage, to my mother's deepest shame. Tonight, I was supposed to attend yet another debutante ball as a dutiful and well-mannered chaperone while mothers throw their teenage daughters in white frilly robes at me, an adult man. Imagine my dismay that I already had an engagement to attend tonight with a very influential magical person of mysterious unknown origins."

"How mad was your mum?" Katie snorted, taking a sip of her cola.

"About as mad as Flint was that time Malfoy had the snitch on top of him and Potter caught it anyway."

"So you almost got murdered in order to have pizza with me," Katie said, "I'm flattered."

"You should be," Montague said, "It wasn't just my mother. I got a handful of howlers. Apparently quite a few people were expecting me to escort them."

"Since when did you become such a hot commodity to witches?" Katie asked.

"You tell me, Bell," Montague grinned, "you enjoyed me quite a bite last weekend, didn't you?"

"I have no plans to marry you, Montague, so stop practicing your kneeling," Katie said.

"What a shame, I had the family ring all picked out," Montague said, "but you can see why I looked forward to this all week, I'm sure."

"I can think of a few hundred reasons," Katie said honestly.

"As can I," Montague surprised her by saying, "for one, a witch who actually acts like herself around me and not some simpering half-wit who is following her mother's instructions to giggle and appear agreeable and empty headed is reason enough. Someone who isn't kissing my arse because of who my father is is a bonus."

"I assure you I won't ever do that," Katie said, finishing off her slice.

"I know," Montague said, "If you did, I would assume Polyjuice. Perhaps Pansy Parkinson. She's gotten to certifiable old maid status."

"I feel terrible for her," Katie said, her voice cold. Harry might be willing to forgive Pansy for trying to hand him over to Voldemort, but_ she_ wasn't going to. And neither was Ginny, or almost anyone else.

"Then add in the fact that we can have an interesting conversation, you make me laugh, and you're beautiful...well...I'm not sure how I could've stayed away," Montague took another slice of their pizza like he hadn't just given her a series of genuine compliments.

"Are you being nice to me?" Katie asked, stirring her soda with her straw. "Have_ you_ hit your head? A stray teacup during the baby's party, perhaps?"

"I'm a nice guy," Montague told her.

Katie saw as clear as day George Weasley's face as he told her about Montague asking him and Fred about the taste of Mudblood pussy and felt the crazy urge to throw her soda in Montague's smiling face.

"What's that face?" Montague demanded, his smile dropping, "Why are you making that face at me, Bell? Haven't I been nice to you?"

"For the last four minutes, sure," Katie agreed, "a new record."

"You're not counting the hours I spent pleasuring you in-"

"And…. niceness over," Katie said, looking at her watch, "let the record state that it lasted four minutes and ten seconds. Try to better it next time, Montague."

"I can spend at least half an hour not talking and bettering it," Montague said, his eyes dropping down again.

"You'll have to trick me back to your apartment again for that to happen," Katie said, "I've learned my lesson."

Montague laughed. "Yeah, cause pulling my hair out of my scalp with pleasure was such a hard lesson to learn, eh Bell? So hard you don't want to repeat it for some reason. Tell me, do you Gryffindors get off on denying yourself pleasure?"

"On denying Slytherins pleasure, yes," Katie retorted.

"You're denying yourself just like you're denying me," Montague pointed out, "rather silly, wouldn't you say? But I understand. I shook your Gryffindor faux modesty. I'll walk you home like a good Muggle boyfriend and kiss you at your door like a nice boy and we can go out again tomorrow."

"I've got plans," Katie lied.

"Do you?" Montague said, "What? You're a terrible liar by the way. You should stop trying around me. Slytherins are trained to lie even in the womb."

"Well if you want to come bikini shopping with me and Ange and Alicia, have at it," Katie snapped. She could probably talk them into it. Summer was coming up. In three months.

"Sounds great," Montague grinned, "I don't know what a bee-keen-ee is but count me in."

Katie opened her mouth foolishly. The smug look on Montague's face told her that he knew she'd been lying and he was calling her bluff. Alicia and Angelina were going to kill her.

Montague opened the door for her as they left the pizza parlor, and Katie walked into the streets of London. She saw Montague reach toward her to hold her hand and then stop, his eyes widening a fraction at something near them. Katie turned to see what he was staring at.

"Graham, what are you doing here?"

* * *

"So let me get this straight, Katie Bell," Alicia demanded, "you were dumb enough to get caught with Montague by Adrian Pucey, and somehow that means we've got to go bikini shopping with them later?"

"It wasn't my fault," Katie protested, "how was I to know the idiot would be in Muggle London? And how was I supposed to know that Montague would be dumb enough to refuse to memory charm him for me?"

"You could've done it yourself," Alicia snapped, "you're better at charms then he is, anyway."

"Am I?" Katie wondered. She wasn't exactly well acquainted with Montague's scholarly performance.

"He didn't even take a NEWT level Charms class," Alicia said, "is that a man you want to be dating, Queen of Charms?"

"We're not dating," Katie protested, pacing back and forth the kitchen in their flat, "it's fake, remember? To stop him from-"

"Telling all of his friends about you making the naked horizontal broom ride with him, yes," Alicia said, "which...now Pucey knows, so it's all over."

"It's not," Katie insisted, "it's not!" It had to be true. She had to have her hooks in Montague well enough that he wouldn't rat her out quite yet, right?

"How can it not be?" Alicia asked, also pacing.

They almost ran into each other. It was a good thing Ange was over at George's, or they might've had to sedate her. "How else did he explain it away to Pucey?"

Katie cringed. It had been awful. Montague had looked like a deer in the headlights. She'd been unable to speak. Pucey had slowly done a once over of her body, then smiled like Lucius Malfoy getting a hot oil treatment.

* * *

"So this is where you've been, Graham?" Pucey said, smirking, "your mother was telling everyone at the cotillion that you were meeting with a very well connected magical person tonight."

"I am," Montague rallied, "I guess you don't recognize her, but this is Katie Be-"

"Of course I recognize her," Pucey said, "you think I don't know the girl you have been-"

Katie turned to look at Montague as Pucey trailed off, and just caught the look of panicked anger on Montague's face.

"The girl he's been what?" Katie questioned, her voice returning, still staring at Montague.

She knew he'd told everyone about her! She knew it!

"The girl he's been tormenting for years like an absolute boor," Pucey said smoothly as Montague tried to smile at Katie.

"Takes one to know," Katie said brutally, "or are you going to pretend you weren't a complete ass-"

"I'm meeting with Miss Bell to discuss mother's plan to memorialize the war heroes," Montague said, "you know, how she wanted to create statues at Hogwarts?"

Pucey, who apparently was not as stupid as Katie thought, laughed.

"Yeah, sure," he said, "calm down. I won't tell your mother."

"Tell her what?" Montague asked, "She'll be pleased to hear that-"

"Stop bullshitting me," Pucey said, "you wanker. You've been trying to get Bell to date you for years. Congratulations on your success, I suppose."

Katie burned red, but not as red as Montague was.

"He's hardly been trying," Katie said finally. She hadn't even seen Montague since her sixth year, for heaven's sake!

"Adrian's joking,' Montague said evenly, "but I will accept your congratulations. And I will also accept your agreement to keep your mouth shut about this for now."

"Oh, will you?" Pucey asked sarcastically, "one, why would I care? Two, now that I know that you want me to care, why wouldn't I tell everyone?"

"Because," Montague said, his jaw tight, "you're my friend, you pillock."

"All the more reason to brag that you've scored Gryffindor's golden girl as your bedmate," Pucey said, putting his hands in his pockets as Katie calculated if he was going for his wand or not.

Perhaps he knew how close she was to pulling her own wand and Obliviating him in front of a hundred meandering Muggles.

Montague stepped forward, close to Pucey, who he still towered over, even if he wasn't as bulky as he used to be. "You will keep a civil tongue in your head when you speak of my girlfriend," he said threateningly.

* * *

Alicia cackled.

"You've already got him whipped," she said triumphantly, turning her pacing into a little victory dance, "tell me your secrets, Katie!"

Katie sighed. She'd been tricked for a moment as well. Montague had just looked so..._delicious _threatening his former chaser over her honor. A surge of triumph had soared through her when he'd gotten so riled up, called her his girlfriend. Maybe Percy's ridiculous plan was actually working. But she pictured George's face when he told her the truth, had thought about what Pucey had almost revealed then backpedaled over. What was he going to say? That Katie was the girl he'd been trying to win a bet over for years?

* * *

"Girlfriend? Pucey said, raising his eyebrows, "_really_?"

"You heard me," Montague said, "and if you say one more rude thing about her I'm going to forget we were ever friends."

"You might make me forget that," Pucey smiled, "but will you make me forget that I saw you two together, dressed like Muggles, in Muggle London?"

"You're in Muggle London too, brain trust," Katie said, rolling her eyes.

"That I am," Pucey said, smiling at Katie in a way she didn't like.

"What will it take?" Montague asked wearily, while Katie contemplated how messed up it was that Montague's alleged good friend required bribery to keep his mouth shut. If Montague had normal friendships, a polite request was all it would take.

"Take a guess," Pucey said, glancing at Katie again. His nasty little smile raised Katie's guard even further.

"We're going bee-keen-ee shopping tomorrow with Johnson and Spinnet," Montague said with a sigh, "want to come?"

"No," Katie blurted loudly.

"What's a bee-kinn-i?" Pucey asked.

"Hopeless," Katie said, "you're all hopeless. And he's not invited."

"Oh I think I am," Pucey said, his smile spreading, "or else I think I might mention to a few people how surprised I was to see Graham Montague, highly eligible bachelor, missing a young witch cotillion to...do _what _with Katie Bell, notorious-"

He trailed off, and Katie glanced at Montague again, who looked like he was seconds away from chocking out Pucey like he was Darth Vadar. Not like either of these two idiots would get that reference, were she to make it.

"Notorious what?" Katie asked sweetly, "Was the "m" word about to come out of your mouth, Pucey?"

"Notorious friend of Harry Potter," Pucey finished while he continued to communicate with Montague silently.

"Wow, what an insult," Katie said, "really, that wounded me. Yes, notorious friend of Harry Potter, the wizarding world's hero. Unless you're saying that's a bad thing, Pucey?"

They all knew full well that "friend of Harry Potter" was certainly not how Pucey was going to end that sentence to begin with.

"It was a compliment, Bell," Pucey said, "and I accept, Graham. We can go shopping for bees with Johnson and Spinnet tomorrow. My treat."

"One, no," Katie said, "two, no. Three, did I mention no?"

"Deal," Montague said like Katie hadn't spoken, "what time are we going, Bell?"

"_We_ are doing nothing," Katie said, "as Pucey isn't invited."

"I'll buy you lunch too," Pucey shrugged.

Katie's rage boiled. Typical pure-blood Slytherin nonsense, thinking all they had to do was throw their daddy's money at a problem and women would fall over themselves to allow anything.

"I don't need your money," Katie said loudly. A few Muggles turned to look at them then continued walking, "I'm a professional Quid—sports player."

"Calm yourself, Bell," Pucey said obnoxiously, "don't want to break the International Statue, do we?"

"You're the one shouting about it," Montague said, "both of you calm down."

"I'm calm," Katie said angrily.

"I can tell," Montague said, lips twitching.

"I didn't mean it as an insult, Bell," Pucey said, his tone making her skin crawl, "or should I call you Katie now that you're my best mate's ah..._girlfriend_?"

"No," Katie and Montague said together.

"I just figured now that you're accustomed to Graham paying for everything for you-"

"Excuse me?" Katie said, her voice rising so high she sounded like her parent's electric teakettle.

"-you're naturally going to develop a taste for the finer things in life. And I can afford to buy the three of you the finest bee er… whatever bee things you're buying. Aren't the three of you living together to save funds?"

"Yes not all of us have a wad of galleons shoved up our arses since birth," Katie said brutally, "and I don't think either of you understand what a bikini is."

* * *

"No!" Alicia shouted, "Katie, for the love of Dumbledore, tell me that you didn't tell them the truth? Tell me you didn't explain what a bikini is!"

"Of course not," Katie said.

After all, she hadn't been friends with the twins for years without developing a strong mischievous streak that she occasionally bent to evil.

"I have every intention of us trying on bee keeping uniforms tomorrow while we make Pucey buy them."

"I don't know what those are," Alicia admitted, but when Katie described them she rubbed her hands together and cackled with glee.

"Don't worry," Katie said grimly, "I have zero intention of putting you in a bikini in front of Adrian Pucey. Have you forgotten which one of the Slytherin guys was prone to make sexual taunts to you mid game?"

Alicia rolled her eyes.

"Considering I was the one who informed you about it, no, Katie," She said, "just keep Warrington away from this excursion. I suspect he might try to kidnap Ange away from George."

"Do you remember at the charity event when he tried to push George into the punch bowl?" Katie said wistfully. George of course had sidestepped the hex and Pansy Parkinson had ended up getting hit and falling down on the floor in front of Malfoy, who'd she been trying to convince to marry her for years. It had been the highlight of many a Gryffindor and DA gatherings for months.

"It all makes sense now," Alicia said thoughtfully, "but now that I'm thinking about it, how come Montague wasn't at that event?"

"No clue," Katie said, not really thinking about it. She genuinely hadn't thought about Graham Montague in years, Out of sight, out of mind. She wished her life would go back that way.

"Better question," Alicia said, "why did Pucey agree that going bikini shopping with us was sufficient to shut his big trap about you and Montague when he doesn't even know what bikinis are? I mean, if he knew he was guaranteed a look at our-"

"Alicia," Katie said in disbelief, "you're this dense and you were making fun of me and Ange? He obviously agreed because _you're_ going to be there." Alicia's mouth popped open. She looked like the time Sloper had hit a bludger into her face during practice. Then her smile turned evil.

"No," Katie said, panicked, "Alicia, whatever you're thinking, stop!"

Ange chose that moment to walk in, sweating, her robes half ripped off.

"What happened to you?" Katie asked.

George followed Ange in, his Weasley's Wizard Wheezes robes singed and bloody.

"What happened to both of you?" Alicia asked, "Were you dueling as foreplay?"

Neither Ange nor George cracked a smile. Angelina drew out a newspaper from her robe and flung it at her roommates.

On the front page of Witch Weekly was a picture of Angelina and Fred at the Yule Ball next to a picture of Angelina and George kissing that had clearly been taken from very far away when they hadn't known they were being watched.

_Shameless Behavior from Kestrals Star Chaser_ screamed the headline, the byline being, of course, by one Ms. Rita Skeeter.

"That's it," Alicia said decisively, "we've got to kill her."

"We were attacked in Diagon Alley," George said shortly, "from behind. Didn't see who. Woke up and Harry and his new Auror partner, whatsherface, were hanging over us."

"Did they catch who did it?" Katie asked urgently. This was serious. This was far more serious than her silly problems involving an arrogant jerk from Slytherin and his equally arrogant and jerkish best friend.

"No," Angelina said, "Harry was furious. I haven't seen him that angry in years."

"You haven't seen him run into McLaggen then," George muttered.

"Well I suppose now's a bad time to mention that the three of us have got a date trying on bikinis with Montague and Pucey later, eh?" Alicia said.

* * *

Montague and Pucey had thankfully, not brought Warrington with them to the girl's flat. But both of their smug little smiles had dropped when George Weasley had stepped out from behind Angelina with a grin on his face.

"Ready to go?" Alicia said, smiling with all her teeth while Katie felt her stomach drop to the floor. This was a very, very bad idea.

"What's he doing here?" Montague snapped, "You didn't say anything about Weasley, Bell."

Pucey's hand twitched toward his pocket and then relaxed.

"You didn't say anything about being a lying sack of shite to Katie the other night either, Montague, so I suppose you're even," George said, still grinning. Both of the Slytherin boys stood up straighter, squaring their shoulders, while George looked supremely unconcerned.

"We had plans," Angelina said irritably, "the four of us. You two were the ones who invited yourselves along. Shut up and deal with it or go home."

"Yes," Alicia said, still smiling evilly, "let's go buy some bikinis. I'm told you offered to pay, Pucey?"

Katie was clutching the piece of paper where she'd written down the address of the one store she'd dug up that sold bee keeping costumes, her heart pounding. Her life was such a mess, and it was all of her fault for being reckless. Hadn't she learned in the battle of Hogwarts not to be reckless? Hadn't she learned the consequences of impulsivity? Hadn't she carefully adhered to that lesson, and been rewarded with a nice flat with her best friends and first string chaser on her favorite team, her childhood dream? Sure she'd been a little lonely in her romantic life, but otherwise, hadn't she been happy being safe and staid? And now she'd gone and messed it all up by hopping into bed like some idiot with Montague, and dragged her friends into it. She was sure to get in all the papers for the scandal when this broke, and then no matter how much Gwenog Jones hated Hellman she would replace Katie and her life would be over, tossed aside as Graham Montague's leftovers after he had one last fling before marrying some pure-blood virgin and continuing on the Montague line while Katie fought to get on a third string on a team, any team. Maybe once she'd sunk that low, even Flint would start to look appealing. Surely no Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff boy would ever touch her after this taint. And then-

"That I did," Pucey said, overly loudly, and Katie saw his eyes dart to Montague and then to George then back.

"Follow me," Katie rallied, pushing all of those thoughts to the back of her mind where she kept the visuals of watching her friends and classmates and professors die, where she thought about the Death Eater she'd helped kill and his widow and kids. This was supposed to be fun. She and Alicia had planned it to be fun. And lord knew Ange and George deserved a laugh.

Katie forced herself to take Montague's hand right there in front of everyone, her other hand clutching the address, and Montague looked away from George with a pleased smile at Katie.

There was a sound like a cat coughing up a hairball and Montague glared at George, who smiled innocently.

"Something in my throat," he said.

"Right," Montague said flatly, "like your brother's girlfriend's tongue," he muttered so quietly only Katie and Pucey heard.

"Don't ruin it," Katie said under her breath.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Montague smiled.

Katie pictured Pucey shelling out thousands of pounds on three bee keeping uniforms and conjured a genuine smile in return.

"This is what you were going shopping for?" Pucey said, rank disbelief in his voice.

Alicia gave a little twirl in her white jumpsuit, cocking her head for affect. Considering on her head was a round hat with a mesh layer around her face falling to her shoulders, she looked more than a bit mad.

"Yes, thanks for paying," George said, "I'm so poor and all. The girls really need them."

Montague and Pucey both scowled.

Katie joined Alicia in twirling a bit, almost tripped due to impaired vision, and then turned away in the pretext of fixing Ange's hat so the Slytherin boys wouldn't see her laughing.

"Muggles are mad," Pucey said, "mad! Why do you need these?"

"It's the latest fashion," George said smoothly, "in formal wear. Crack a magazine sometimes, boys."

Katie bit her lips. If should could immortalize this moment forever, of Montague and Pucey watching her, Ange, and Alicia trying on beekeeping uniforms she would.

"I find this hard to believe," Montague drawled, "Bell, why are you facing that way? Are you hiding something from me?"

Katie was now almost biting her tongue in half. She couldn't laugh and ruin it. She needed to make George and Ange's day by watching Adrian Pucey spend an absurd amount on three of the highest end beekeeper suits that money could buy.

Ange violently pinched Katie and that wiped the smile off of her face.

"Nothing," Katie said, "just making sure mine fits. It looks great, don't you think?" the white jumper laid on her like a sack of potatoes. If a sack of potatoes zipped up the front, of course. And came with a matching mesh covered hat.

Montague looked at her with narrowed eyes. They both knew she was lying. But how, or about what, he couldn't quite figure out. And Montague was still trying to pretend to be a sweet boyfriend,

"You look great, Alicia," Pucey said, smiling winningly. Or he tried to. As with most Slytherins, an attempt at a flattering smile looked like gastrointestinal distress.

"Don't I?" Alicia said, twirling some more. The shop keeper had been watching them with his mouth slightly ajar, shook his head and muttered something like "kids" under his breath, and presumably went to he back to count the stack of pounds Katie had slipped to him to go along with the charade of them trying on the suits like they were for a runway.

It had all almost gone to plan. George and the girls were smiling so much that Montague had begun to scowl, further convinced that he was being taken advtange of in some way. Pucey was obliviously complimenting Alicia some more as they made their way on the pavement outside, laden down with all three of their beekeeper suits. Katie had solemnly informed him that Muggle tradition dictated the person paying carried all purchases so Pucey was sweating slightly as he stagged under the weight of the finest bee keeping suits money could buy. Montague's expression had darkened further at this. If he owned copious amounts of Muggle clothing (a mystery Katie had still not solved) he was surely aware that Katie was lying through her teeth and yet was keeping his mouth shut for once, another mystery. Perhaps her plan to win over Montague wasn't going well at the moment, but her plan to cheer up her best friends was going swimmingly. Now if she could only combine the two...and while she was at it, keep Adrian Pucey's mouth sealed shut forever. Her brain ticked rapidly.

But not, as it turned out, rapidly enough.

"Oh yes, I love my new bikini," Alicia beamed at Pucey, who beamed back, a trickle of sweat dripping down his right cheek. He almost dropped the bags.

Montague and George looked equally perturbed but, Katie was sure, for very different reasons. Katie had a feeling George was recalling why, exactly, the twins and Oliver had never told Alicia about the bet, and Montague was watching Alicia like she was a cat playing with her food.

"Me too," Angelina said, trying for sweet but landing on obviously smug, "how generous of you, Pucey. I'm so glad we can all be friends now."

"Yeah so am I," Pucey gasped as he heaved the bags higher again, "say do you think anyone would notice if I cast a lightening char-"

"Yes," Katie, George, and Montague said in equally severe tones.

"No problem," Pucey said gamely, as his arms hook, "I'll handle it. Say, since we're all getting along so well, how about next time we invite Cassius-"

"NO," George, Montague, and Katie said, even louder.

George's smile dropped and he looked like he was seconds away from pummeling Pucey.

"I thought we were keeping this all a secret, for now," Katie said, trying to smile, "because um...people wouldn't understand."

"Yes, of course," Montague said, eying Pucey, "remember?"

"Oh yes," Pucey said, eyes still on Alicia, who smiled at him, batting her eyelashes, "where are you going to wear these bee-keen-ees again?"

"A Muggle dance," Angelina said at the same time Alicia said "a beach party."

Montague's eyes were narrowed so far Katie was surprised he could see. It was time for drastic measures.

"Did you like mine, Graham?" Katie said, grabbing his hand and smiling. She tried to ignore the fact that George looked faintly ill in the corner of her eye.

"No," Montague said flatly," you looked like Minerva McGonagall trying to be frisky."

Katie tried for an airy laugh and failed. Montague could handle being kind for multiple hours around her Muggle friends but around her magical friends, he could tolerate about half an hour before reverting. Her friends had started to scowl, and even Pucey stopped looking at Alicia like a puppy.

"You looked much better the other night," Montague said, and Katie felt her face go aflame, "in that skirt number at your Muggle club," Montague added after a deliberately long time in which George Weasley had time to crack his knuckles and Pucey started to smirk at Katie. Damn him! Montague knew what he'd implied to everyone by saying "the other night."

Katie tried for a delightful laugh again.

"Have you been hit with a cheering charm, Bell?" Montague asked, "A badly done one? I didn't know Weasley the younger was around."

George shook off Angelina's arm, standing up straighter.

"Too bad I missed you wearing it," Pucey said, "I would've liked to see you in whatever made Graham lose his mind over you."

It was a mark of how awful Sltyherins were that Katie wasn't sure if Pucey had just stopped entirely trying to win over Alicia or if he was just so arrogant that he thought she wouldn't care that he was making sexual comments to one of her best mates right in front of her.

"You would understand," Montague smirked, looking at Katie's chest deliberately, "if you'd seen it, Adrian."

"Ahh, but would your mother?" Pucey laughed.

"Alright," George said, "fun's over. See you both never." Ange nodded.

"Now wait just a minute," Pucey said, "I was promised a day with the Gryffindor chasers, and it's not even been an hour. I can't guarantee I won't have to talk about my epic disappointment with someone. I'm in pain here, you know."

"Not enough," George said ominously.

"Your mother has been trying to get it out of me what you've been up to," Pucey needled to Montague, "she's just so concerned, poor dear, how distracted you've been."

"Yes the thrill of having everyone throw their unwed daughters at me is endlessly enthralling," Montague said sarcastically, "I see why she'd be concerned about my lack of interest."

"I can soothe the poor woman by letting her know you're merely wooing such a notable war heroine," Pucey said, eyes running over Katie again, "I'm sure she'll be just ecstatic."

"Why wouldn't she be?" Montague said loudly.

George Weasley had the most peculiar expression on his face, if Katie had noticed, but instead she was paralyzed with fear, watching the wheels turn in Pucey's brain. As dumb as some of the Slytherins were, just as many were full of cunning and Pucey, alas, was one of the latter.

"Oh, no reason," Pucey said, "beautiful and famous for do gooding? What's not to like for a woman of notorious good breeding and wealth?"  
"Absolutely nothing," Montague said, taking his hand away from Katie, breathing hard. George's eyes darted between the two Slytherin boys.

"I agree," Pucey said unconvincingly, "your mother will be beyond happy. So why are you hiding your little night time dalliances?"

"It's mid-day, fool," Alicia said loudly. For a second, Pucey tried to be charming toward Alicia again, but then his baser instincts won out.

"No reason to hide either," Pucey said, "I'll send her an owl, shall I? Put her mind at ease?"

"You said you'd keep your mouth shut if we took you bikini shopping," Angelina said, "or are you breaking your word? Why don't you ask Marietta Edgecomb what happens when you break your word to a Gryffindor?"

"Well I had no idea a bee-" at this precisely awful moment, Pucey's eyes alighted on a store nearby. It was hard not to notice it. It was turquoise and covered in tropical painted flowers. The name was Purple Waves Surf Shop. In the window, was an enormous sign advertising a half off bikini sale, right below a selection of the finest tiny two piece bathing suits.

"You'll keep your trap shut," Montague said, "or else I'll-" his eyes too wandered onto the display, and the four Gryffindor's watched as their lips sounded out the word bikini, then as their eyes drank in the tiny purple striped number on display. It wouldn't even cover half of one of Ange's boobs.

In unison, the Slytherins turned to the Gryffindors. Pucey dropped the bee keeper uniforms with a thunk.

"Oops," George shrugged.

* * *

**_Author's Note:_** This story has minimal plot at best...borderline no plot if we're being honest, and I make no apologies for it! ;) Thanks to all my reviewers including the guest/anonymous accounts! I like to reply to all reviews but since I can't if you're a guest I'll just say thanks here. :)


	7. The Other He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

**Chapter Seven: The Other He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named**

"Bell!" Jones shouted as Katie got pelted with not one, not two, but _three _Bludgers in succession, screeched, and rolled over on her broom, almost falling off, "pay attention or I'm pulling you for the next game!"

Katie, hanging upside down, still managed to see the triumphant little smile on Hellman's face as she flew by, and she longed for the fourth Bludger rocketing around the field being hit by Kellis, the second string Beater to smack the smug off of Hellman's face.

"Sorry captain," Katie said, righting herself and clutching her ribs.

Jones glared at her, blew on her whistle, and flew off, shouting instructions at the second string team.

"I told you to steer clear of him," Ginny said as she tossed the Quaffle from one hand to another, "didn't I, Katie? Didn't I warn you he would ruin your life?"

"You and everyone else," Katie said shortly, rubbing her side. At least he hadn't shown up to practice again.

"George said you were forced to try on bikinis in front of him," Ginny said, tossing Katie the Quaffle in a pretext to keep Jones away from them for gossiping during practice, "and Pucey."

"Well he's seen me naked," Katie said shortly, twirling the Quaffle on one finger and looping it back in a complicated swerve move, "so it wasn't the end of the world."

It had, of course, been excruciatingly painful. Perhaps she should've let George attempt to curse both Pucey and Montague to get out of it, but there had been hundreds of Muggles nearby. Getting arrested by your own little brother or his best friend, the savior of the wizarding world, for breaking the statue of secrecy amongst other laws, was not ideal.

Montague had insisted it was the only way to get Pucey to keep his mouth shut, and _Pucey_ had insisted it was the only way to keep his mouth shut, and there Katie had been, sullenly trying on actual bikinis, no longer finding the bee keeper ruse so amusing. At least she'd gotten enough bikinis for the next ten years out of it. Pucey had bought them five each, and Montague had enjoyed his little show so much he'd bought Katie another fifteen.

It had made her ill to watch Montague stare at her while she was almost naked in front of reflecting mirrors. Or so Katie assumed that squirming feeling in her stomach was disgust.

"Sorry I didn't kill him by accident during the battle of Hogwarts," Ginny said cheerfully, juggling the Quaffle from pinky to pinky as Jones looked at them with suspicion.

"He wasn't there," Katie said, "I don't think."

"Yeah, sure," Ginny said, clearly not believing her, "just all his mates in masks, right?"

"He's not a Death Eater," Katie said, her voice rising.

Why was she defending Montague? Why? He had taken one look at her in the first bikini and told her he should owl Jones some flowers for the strenuous practices getting her arse so nice.

The way Pucey had been looking at her had been alarming. Or had she been flattered? Or had she been both alarmed and flattered? In fact, the way Pucey had gotten increasingly glassy eyed as Katie tried on bikinis had gotten Montague so smug he rivalled Hellman.

"You sure?" Ginny asked.

"Of course," Katie said, although of course, she wasn't. Not really. He'd shown her his arm, but the Marks had faded. Everyone knew that.

"Okay," Ginny said, clearly not believing a word of it, "if you're sure, Katie."

"Positive," Katie lied. There had never been anything linking Montague to the Death Eaters. Sure, he was friends with Draco Malfoy, and Bole, and Derrick, who'd both been arrested and thrown in Azkaban, and yeah, there had been unproven rumors about Flint, but that didn't meant Montague had been one, right? Wasn't it enough proof that he'd willingly touched Katie that he wasn't?

"I just hope you know what you're doing," Ginny said, "I know Harry and Percy and Ron think this is brilliant and all, but George and I-"

"Yes I think I know how George feels," Katie said, "he's been quite clear."

George had threatened to buy a cleaning solution and douse his own eyeballs in it during the bikini incident. Then he'd threatened to pour it in Montague's and Pucey's eyes so they'd stop staring.

"I know what I'm doing," Katie lied. She'd barely been able to pay attention all practice, living in constant terror that Montague was going to show up to watch again make things even worse. How things could get worse, it was hard to determine, until she thought about the fact that it could hit the papers. Montague could pose for a photo with her tiny bright pink knickers. Flint could know intimate details of what a naked Katie Bell looked like. She shuddered.

"That was convincing," Ginny said sarcastically, "just be careful. You worked hard to get on this team. You don't want Hellman to take that from you."

Katie's eyes narrowed on the Chaser in question who was blowing kisses to all the spectators, who were cheering.

"Two can play that game," she said angrily. Her life had spun out of control. But she would be damned if she let Hellman steal her place on the team.

Katie zeroed in on the other Quaffle, stole it from Insley from second string, dodged both Bludgers hit her way, completed a textbook barrel roll while holding on one handed to the Quaffle, and threw it perfectly through the middle of the highest hoop to cheers from the spectators.

Katie flew by the cheering fans, waving and blowing kisses, feeling triumphant as a trio of teenage boys held up a sign that said "Katie for Minister" and blew kisses back at her in between screams.

She felt even better when she saw Hellman scowling and Jones laughing, and she performed a loop de loop on her brooms to further cheers.

"I see finally getting a boyfriend has helped your game, Bell," Hellman shouted across half the field to her.

Katie smiled her sweetest smile and flipped two fingers at Hellman. In the wizarding world, most people wouldn't even know what that meant. But it still felt good.

"I see having twelve boyfriends at once hasn't helped yours," Ginny retorted, even louder.

"Get back to drills!" Jones bellowed, "Enough cat fighting, you three!"

Katie and Ginny laughed together while Hellman glared at them. Sometimes you just needed to blow off a little steam on your terrible teammate with no consequences.

Screw Montague. He wasn't going to ruin her life. She was a heroine of the Battle of Hogwarts. She was a first string Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. She was—in the corner of the stands, Katie saw a group of press photographers clicking pictures of her frantically while Rita Skeeter stared at her, her quick quotes quill scribbling at lightning speed. She was _screwed_. Katie turned to Ginny, whose mouth was opened. Hellman laughed.

* * *

_War Heroine and Quidditch Star Katie Bell's Mystery Man_ screamed the next edition of the gossip section in the Daily Prophet.

_Katie Bell, a starting chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, a controversial choice that some would say was selected due to her close relationship with The-Boy-Who-Lived, has been revealed by her own teammate Sheila Hellman to be in a relationship. Ms. Bell was rumored to be dating Harry Potter on more than one occasion, which has led to the frosty friendship between herself and Ginevra Weasley, the star chaser of the Holyhead Harpies. The-Boy-Who-Lived and Ms. Bell have always strenuously denied this relationship being real, but he has been pictured coming out of Ms. Bell's flat on more than one occasion in recent weeks. _

"With me!" Ginny said indignantly, "she's conveniently leaving that part out!"

"It's Rita," Harry shrugged, helping himself to a handful of more gummy witches.

Katie supposed if you were someone like Harry, a little gossip article meant practically nothing to you when you'd almost been murdered be an evil wizard masterminds six times by the time you were seventeen.

"Ron, didn't you say Hermione had a way of handling this?" George demanded, pacing around.

"Did I?' Ron said, looking guilty around a mouthful of gummy witches.

"Where is Hermione, anyway?" Ginny said, "I _know_ you said she can control Rita before Ron, this is just-"

"Keep reading," Katie said. Best for her to hear the whole tragic thing.

Percy cleared his throat.

"Ms. Bell was also rumored to be in a relationship with one George Weasley for many years before he dumped her for her roommate and friend, Angelina Johnson, Chaser for the Kenmore Kestrals, who dated his twin brother before Fred Weasley's untimely death."

Angelina made a noise like a cat gone feral and hopped up on catnip, and by George's furious resumed pacing; Katie knew that this was most likely the real source of George's extreme anger, as fond as he was of Katie.

"She was known to be dating her former captain for many a year, Oliver Wood, and some specu-"

"Now hold on!" Oliver said, "Katie was twelve!"

"She's a lot older now," Ron said after a giant swallow of gummy.

"…And some speculate that was how a player with little talent maintained her spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team for so many years over more talented players that had been vying for a spot. That preferential treatment continued when The-Boy-Who-Lived became Captain-"

"I didn't even want to be Captain," Harry said loudly.

"We know," Ginny, Ron, and Katie said together under their breaths. Harry hadn't exactly covered himself in glory that year.

"You were really busy stalking Malfoy," Ron added unnecessarily, "And snogging my sister."

"I mean, well,_ stalking_," Harry stammered.

There was deafening silence on the subject of him snogging Ginny, however.

"Some would speculate that Ms. Bell's fortunate Quidditch placements would cease once she was out from the favor of Harry Potter and Oliver Wood, but she managed to snag a spot on the first team away from Ms. Hellman, an act that shocked the Quidditch world."

"It did not!" Alicia said loudly, punching a pillow in indignation, "Katie worked hard for that and-"

"Hellman's a lot hotter," Marcus Flint, chaser for the Falmouth Falcons was quoted as saying, "and a lot friendlier. The fans love her way more. Everyone knows that she would make a lot of money for the Harpies if they'd picked her instead. But I guess Bell got it with her connections."

"Her hard work!" Angelina exploded, joining George in his angry pacing.

"Even with Ms. Bell's murky Quidditch record she has maintained a small following of fans, presumably those who find her vacant expression and long legs appealing, or perhaps just those dedicated fans of The-Boy-Who-Lived and anyone who once traveled in his circles," Percy continued.

"She makes it sound like you lead a cult," Ron said to Harry, eating some more gummy witches.

"Jim Jones," Harry muttered, which made Katie at least give a weak chuckle.

"Do drink the Kool-Aid, Rita," Katie added, and Harry cackled.

"Either way, Ms. Bell's marked improvement in her game has been attributed by Ms. Hellman to her mysterious new lover."

Katie gagged. She wasn't the only one. They sounded like an army that only had surstromming to live off of.

"One can only hope this boy is prepared to deal with the jealous hordes of men surrounding Ms. Bell, and the overbearing presence of the wizarding world's boy hero in her life."

Katie looked in disbelief at Harry.

"We've hung out _three times_ in the past _year_," Harry said, bewildered, "and all of that's been since this mess with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Half the occupants of the flat yelped and the other half laughed.

"Too soon?" Harry shrugged, "sorry. I mean, at least this one's got a tan and a nose."

"I had no idea I had such a harem," Katie said, looking about for a stray bottle of alcohol. Any alcohol. She'd take rubbing alcohol at this point, even if she'd go blind.

"Listen, here's what I don't get," Ginny said, "Hellman knows it's Montague. She saw him. She overheard me say his name," she gave Katie a guilty look, "so why is she not revealing who it actually is?"

"Maybe she did," Percy said, folding the offending paper, "maybe Rita's saving that up for another exclusive."

There was a moment of terrified acknowledgement.

"Perish the thought," Katie tried feebly.

"We've got to go on the offensive," Alicia said, punching a hand into her fist. "It's the only way."

"We _are_ on the offensive," Katie said, "remember? The part where I convince Montague he's madly in love with me and ruin his life?"

"Yes, exactly," Harry said, pushing his glasses up his nose, "so you've got to up the stakes, Katie. Tell everyone it's Montague you're dating and then-"

"Not yet," Ange said, pacing, "she's not got him under her thumb enough yet. I saw that on Sunday. There's work to be done."

"Well, sorry," Katie said, hurt, "I am trying, you know."

"And you're making great strides forward," Alicia said soothingly, "he was able to fake being nice for at least five minutes around us! Progress! But we've got to do more before we proceed."

"Agreed," Percy said, "For now, we've got to hope your teammate keeps her mouth shut."

"I'm doomed," Katie said.

* * *

"Heard you've got a hot new man," Montague drawled as he cut into a piece of maple glazed almond encrusted salmon.

He'd insisted on picking the restaurant this time, declaring that it was his turn and Katie could just eat a fine meal for once. Typical Montague. He'd practically orgasmed eating pizza the week before and now he was acting like she'd made him eat Muggle pig feed.

"Can't say I do," Katie said lightly, eating a bite of steak. It was good, blast him.

"Who is solely to credit for your recent Quidditch success," Montague added, drinking a sip of overpriced wine. Was he making a misguided attempt at impressing Katie with a five hundred pound bottle of wine, or was this just normally what he drank?

"I've been successful for years," Katie said, nettled, attacking a roasted potato.

"That you have," Montague said, "can't say I blame you for being upset at that part."

"I'm not upset," Katie said, upset, "who said I'm upset?"

She took a large swig of wine. Part of her felt a twisted sort of satisfaction about the thought of Montague buying multiple bottles of ridiculous wine for her while she got trashed face, but that also led to her losing another pair of knickers in Montague's bedroom, doubling her little problem.

"Well I'm convinced," Montague said in a deadpan, "no one believes that nonsense, you know. Even the boys, we all knew you lot were talented. How could you not be, beating us all the time?"

"The boys?" Katie said acidly.

"You know who I mean," Montague said, taking a bite of asparagus, "don't be difficult. Personally, I'm more interested in learning more about your former relationship with Wood."

"Pardon?" Katie said blankly, and then she reached for the wine glass again.

It wasn't like getting drunk was the problem. She'd fucked Montague repeatedly while stone cold sober, after all.

"Your relationship with Wood," Montague enunciated, "you've been holding out on me. We all knew he probably had something going on with at least one of you back in the day but-"

"What the—_what_?" Katie said, her voice rising. The nearby table glanced over.

"I know he's pretty and all," Montague conceded, with a hint of bitterness in his voice, stabbing his salmon, "much as it pains me to admit it, but his personality, Bell! The man is a walking obsessive complex, you know?"

Katie saw red. She pictured a younger, burlier Montague approaching Wood and the twins and asking about her in bed, as George had told her and Oliver had confirmed in a private talk a few days ago that they'd had. She was trying her very best to ignore all the terrible things she knew about Montague so she didn't claw his face off and ruin their plan to get her revenge, her dignity, and most importantly, her knickers back. But when he had to go and remind her…

"Was it back in school?" Montague persisted, "I thought you had a thing for Higgs, who likes men by the way Bell, sorry to break it to you, or was it-"

"I never dated Oliver," Katie hissed, holding her fork like a spear in her left hand, "are you really believing Rita Skeeter's nonsense? Are you going to ask me about my affair with Harry next?"

Montague pulled a face, drinking another sip of wine. His stupid crested ring gleamed in the candlelight, ostentatious as always.

"I know you didn't date Potter," Montague said confidently, "you wouldn't be attracted to him."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Katie said, bizarrely irritated on Harry's behalf. "What's wrong with a guy who saved the whole world, eh?"

"You like a little more bite in your men, is all," Montague said, "he's better than most Gryffindors about it, but he's still too wholesome."

Katie stared in disbelief at the proof in front of her that Slytherins were total morons about Harry.

"I don't think you know Harry at all," Katie said finally, picturing the million ways Harry Potter was not wholesome in the slightest.

Montague frowned, his eyes searching her face.

"Bell, are you telling me you dated Potter and not Wood?" he demanded.

"So what if I did?" Katie said recklessly, "so what if I dated Oliver and Harry and George and Lee Jordan and Roger Davies-"

"Goblin pox," Montague muttered under his breath, "that's what you'd get if you dated Davies..."

"-And Zacharias Smith and Terrence Higgs-"

"He likes men," Montague muttered again, before he too drank a large, plebian swallow of wine.

"-and um, Cassius Warrington-"

"Ew!" Montague said loudly, his face twisting, and the nearby table glared at them again.

"-and errr...Flint and Lucius Malfoy, what about that?"

Montague stared at her with disbelief for a moment.

"Well," he said finally, "Lucius Malfoy is what, fifty? And a Death Eater? Also, Flint and Warrington would never have kept quiet about getting in your knickers Bell, I would've known this whole time. As I said, Higgs likes men-"

"The point," Katie snapped, stabbed her knife into her steak again, "is that I could date a hundred men, screw them all, and it's none of your business!"

"It is my business if you're my girl," Montague said, his face still twisted, probably from the thought of Katie doing the naked broom ride with the trollish Flint or the sloth faced Warrington.

"One, I'm not your girl," Katie said, bristling, "two, even if I was it's still not your business. Maybe in your little pure-blood circles of virginity, you can police who is wearing their chastity belts still and who are not, but if you want to actually try a different sort of-"

"Bell, I saw you tonguing a Muggle with diseased skin right in front of me and I didn't protest," Montague lied, "stop foisting things on me I didn't do."

"They're called tattoos, for the last time Montague, and you most certainly did protest," Katie retorted, hacking at her beautiful steak, "in fact, I recall you saying something to me about him when-" she stopped herself abruptly, but it was too late, and Montague looked smug again.

"When I was getting your legs to stop working?" he said, his stupid ring gleaming as he picked up his wine. Katie longed to pull it off his finger and throw it in his face.

"They were working fine," Katie lied.

"What a shame," Montague said, his face telling Katie they both knew she was lying, damn him, "I've got to do better next time, eh Bell?"

"Yes," Katie said, "I mean—no! There is no next time."

"Oh?" Montague said, his eyebrows raised, "are you practicing celibacy until I marry you, Bell? A bit hypocritical, no?"

Katie ground her teeth. What could be more annoying about this stupid arrogant boy in front of her? His supreme confidence that Katie would get in bed with him again? His arrogance about his prior performance? Or his conviction that Katie clearly was aiming to get the hideous Montague crest stamped on her own jewelry as the next Mrs. Montague?

"Not at all," Katie said, poisonously sweet, "after all, I'm having three-ways with Harry and Oliver, remember? Just like your good pal Rita told you."

Montague's eyes went dark. She supposed she should be proud of herself for making him jealous of such a stupid lie, but Katie wasn't fond of jealous boys. She also was not fond of Montague, and spending all her free time with his insufferable self. Why hadn't she just doubled back to the bar that night, gotten her itches out that way? In fact—inspiration struck.

"In between my bouts of shagging with Nate," Katie added, taking a long drag of wine as she watched Montague's fury rise. It was funny, the madder she made him, the more in control of this whole mess she felt.

"That Muggle?" Montague said, in a low voice.

"Yes, he called me," Katie said truthfully, making a note on the heavy disgust in Montague's voice as he said Muggle, "he wants to take me out tomorrow night."

Montague was grabbing his wine glass so tightly his knuckles were bloodless. Katie would be worried about broken glass if she actually cared about Montague at all.

"What do you mean, _called _you?" Montague demanded, "And what did you say?"

"On the phone," Katie said gleefully, not able to suppress a grin anymore, which made Montague's expression even worse, "I gave him my number, remember?"

She knew Montague had no idea what she meant, and his confusion and fury gladdened her heart. If she needed any more proof of what an arse Montague had always been and would always be, all she needed to witness was his rage at the thought of Katie fucking a dirty Muggle.

"And I told him I'd think about it; maybe I'll pop by with the girls again."

"You will not," Montague spat.

"Don't tell me what to do," Katie retorted, grin dropping, "You don't control me, Montague."

"And you'd like it if I started dating say, Eliana Fawley?' Montague demanded, naming the nineteen year old extremely wealthy and beautiful Slytherin pure-blood who everyone, even Katie who couldn't care less about pure-blood drama, knew was the most sought after bride for the silver and diamond set.

"A teenager?" Katie said acidly, "I thought you weren't into that?"

Montague reddened, and Katie knew she'd won already.

"By all means," Katie said, her grin returning, "date the lucky Eliana Fawley. Your parents will be thrilled. Of course, that means you get to escort her to all of the debutante balls and tea parties while she never eats and refuses to even kiss you for her virginal reputation, but you do you, Montague. I'm sure you'll find her conversation enthralling."

"Extremely," Montague said, face twitching, "the last time I saw her my grandmother shoved her at me at a ball and she spoke to me about the latest shoe trends for an hour while I longed for Potter to show up with the Aurors and kill us all."

"See?" Katie said, stabbing another bite of steak, "look what you're missing out on by talking to me! Go find her and enjoy your time discussing the hottest fall fashion, aubergine colored robes."

"Are they?" Montague said, "I do need to find a gift for my mother. It's her birthday soon."

"No," Katie said, "I made that up. But you can start a trend I suppose."

Montague's face twitched again, and then he couldn't help himself anymore and he grinned. "All right you've got me," he said, "I'd rather stab my wand into my own eardrums then date Eliana Fawley."

"Just say it," Katie said, "no one entertains you like I do."

Montague was still smiling, but there was something very peculiar in his eyes that she couldn't pinpoint.

"No one entertains me like you do," he said dutifully, "so that's why I can't keep getting into brawls to keep other men off of you, Bell."

"No one said you had to," Katie said, and Montague seemed to take this as some sort of declaration of her interest in him, relaxing and reverting to his more charming persona while they spent the next few minutes politely talking. Katie's mind, however, wandered to that Muggle bartender. Perhaps she _would_ give him a call back.

"You should wear an aubergine colored dress to my mother's birthday dinner party," Montague said casually, as they waited for a dessert. Katie had insisted she needed chocolate cake and Montague, as usual, had taken it too far and ordered three different desserts, one of which had extraneous gold flakes in the icing.

"Am I coming to your mother's birthday dinner party?" Katie asked, confused.

Montague pausing while sipping his pretentious brandy, his eyebrows raised. He watched her for a moment with an expectant expression.

"What?" Katie asked, even more confused. "Are you also coming to my match next weekend? Wearing the Mr. Katie Bell shirt in glitter?" She waited for the jest back.

There was a flash of something in Montague's eyes, and she wondered if it was disappointment, decided that made no sense, and got distracted by the arrival of their desserts.

"I didn't get my shirt made," Montague said lightly, "send it to me via owl, will you Bell? Along with my box tickets?"

"Yeah of course," Katie jibed, taking an enormous hunk of chocolate cake. "What size do you wear?"

"Medium," Montague said, "if you want to see my biceps and manly abs, that is."

"Always," Katie said after trying a bite of the strawberry chocolate cheesecake.

"And I'll get you that aubergine dress," Montague said, "for my mother's birthday."

"Make sure it's short," Katie said, "really tight, too. Got to show some cleavage."

"Definitely not dress robes," Montague agreed, also taking a bite of the cheesecake.

"And you promised me rubies," Katie said, feeling alive. She hated that trading barbs with Montague made her feel so energized, but she couldn't deny that it did.

"Rubies with an aubergine colored dress?" Montague said, "For shame, Bell. I'll send you the silver and amethysts, of course."

"The tiara? How lovely," Katie said, "make sure to have a bottle of whiskey for when your family passes out from the shame."

Montague's smile dropped again, and then reappeared.

"I expect my ticket, Bell," he warned, "I hope you know I'm not joking. And I'll send Sassy out to get you a worthy purple dress."

"You do that," Katie said casually.

"I will," Montage vowed.

Katie, fool that she was, took a bite of the whipped mouse, not looking at Montague's determined expression. It would, of course, be her doom.


	8. Mr Katie Bell

**Chapter ****E****ight: Mr. Katie Bell**

Katie dove on her broom to snatch the Quaffle as it plunged through the air as the crowd screamed, mostly in support. Tommy Adams flew her way in a blur as she turned sharply, trying to make her way to the goals to score.

"Nice arse, Bell," Adams yelled her way, and she grit her teeth, dodging a bludger.

Before she would've assumed this was an attempt to distract her into dropping the Quaffle. Now, she knew it was potentially a bad attempt to get in her knickers to win a bet.

"Can't say the same," Katie yelled back, putting on a burst of speed. God, it was really impressive how bad the male Quidditch player's pick-up game was. Perhaps they were so used to broom groupies throwing themselves at them that they had no idea how to get a girl who wasn't desperate for them.

"Love to see yours close up sometime!" Adams shouted at her back, and Katie's teeth were so clenched so might crack a tooth.

"Yeah, well-" Katie stupidly started to yell over her shoulder, and then she saw someone in the stands. She dropped the Quaffle in horror while Adams whooped with excitement, snatching it up and flying in the other direction.

Montague was staring right at her, frowning, but whether he was frowning due to the fact that Katie had not sent him tickets like he apparently had actually wanted, or because she was sucking, she couldn't say.

After a half second of fear, Katie turned and pelted after Adams, desperate to get the Quaffle back. She flattened against her broom, a ringing in her ears from the cheers and boos and perhaps due to the fact that Montague had meant it, he wanted to attend her game, and he was there in the stands with Pucey, wearing a Holyhead Harpies shirt that as far as she could see in a brief moment, was thankfully not covered in glittery _Mr. Katie Bell _script.

Katie dodged a bludger, one of the Montrose Magpies Chasers who tried to block her and drew almost level with Adams again.

"Hey, Tommy," she yelled, "want to see my tits?"

Two could play this game. She'd had enough of it only benefiting the men.

She was rewarded with Adams dropping the Quaffle, his eyes wide, and Jones scooped it up, flying it in the other direction.

"You bitch!" Adams shouted at her, and Katie laughed, wheeling about on her broom.

"You _wish _you could see them!" she yelled over her shoulder, chuckling, until she'd remembered that the last boy to see her tits was currently scowling at her in the stands, presumably mad that she hadn't taken him seriously and sent him box tickets. Well, fuck Montague as well. He wasn't her boyfriend, and if he really thought she was fool enough to announce whom she'd been shagging when Rita Skeeter was avidly watching her the whole match…

Jones scored, and most of the stands cheered, the small visitor's section for the Magpies groaning.

Katie made eye contact with a furious and red-faced Adams, who was still flying right near her, and she grinned wider.

"Slut," he hissed viciously, but Katie couldn't care. Didn't care.

They were going to win the game; she had a feeling. Montague and Pucey were going to bear witness to her continued Quidditch superiority, and Rita Skeeter was going to slink home to her lair unsatisfied, with no proof of any chicanery on Katie's part. Life right now, was good.

* * *

"Saw your man in the stands, Bell," Hellman said, combing out her wet hair.

Katie turned and got an eyeful of wet bosom. It was some sort of bizarre power move on Hellman's part that she enjoyed, get out her enormous tits and keep them out while having a passive aggressive conversation with Katie or Ginny.

"Nice boobs," Katie said dryly, "really, spectacular. Congratulations."

Ginny and Juliet Northrup, first string Beater, snickered.

"Thank you," Hellman said, slinking over to her locker in slow motion, completely naked.

"Why are you even showering Hellman, it' s not like you got to play," Juliet said.

"I needed a cold shower after spotting Mr. Montague," Hellman said slyly, and Katie pulled a disgusted face against her will while Hellman spelled her hair dry.

"No one wants to hear about your sexual urges, Hellman," Jones barked as she walked through the locker room, still fully dressed in her uniform as usual.

Ginny and Juliet laughed again, Katie joining in.

"Good work, team," Jones said, "great win. The Magpies aren't a joke. We've got to practice hard before we go to Falmouth, the Falcons are looking to repeat this year, and we need to make sure that doesn't happen."

The women cheered, and Jones permitted herself one single smile.

"Bell," she said after the women went back to getting dressed, "a word, if you will."

Katie felt her heart sink. She knew what was coming. Her wet hair dripped down her back as she followed her captain to her office as Ginny looked after her with sympathy.

"I thought you promised me your boy wouldn't be a distraction," Jones said without preamble as the door shut behind Katie.

"He's not," Katie lied.

"Ah," Jones said, "so I didn't see you drop the Quaffle like it was made of butter right in front of him mid match, then?"

"No, I mean...yes, I did, but-"

"Bell, I need time to change Hellman's entire personality or recruit another backup Chaser of her quality," Jones said, "we discussed this in depth."

"Yes," Katie said miserably, "understood. But you won't need a replacement, Captain."

"Oh, won't I?" Jones said caustically as the water gently dripped down Katie's shirt. "I can't play someone who sees some pretty boy and loses her head totally."

"I got the Quaffle back," Katie said sullenly, "didn't I? You ended up scoring anyway."

"Clarence Green told me you distracted his Chaser by offering to flash your tits at him," Jones said bluntly, "while we shook hands post-match."

"So what if I did?" Katie said defensively, already picturing herself being forced to clean out her locker as Hellman gloated at her promotion, no doubt with her tits still out and wet.

"Then I'd say bully for you, and you and Weasley can use that strategy next match against the Falcons," Jones said.

"Yeah well-" Katie started to snap back, then her mouth dropped open. "What?"

Jones grinned.

"Now that I know you're not too high and mighty for some dirty tactics, why not use them, eh? Maybe Weasley can offer to date that star seeker of theirs, Grimsby, mid match. He's eighteen and I've heard sports an impressive collection of articles and pictures about the chosen girlfriend."

Katie made a whimpering noise.

"Oh close your mouth, Bell," Jones said, stripping off her arm guards and throwing them on the desk, "I always though you and Weasley were goody-goody's, very Gryffindor heroics you know, but now that I know you're willing to slap Flint and use your tits as a weapon-"

"No one saw my tits," Katie said, finding her voice.

"I just saw them two minutes ago, Bell," Jones said, lips twitching, "not as noticeable as Hellman's enormous rack, I'll grant you, but some people prefer those perky small ones."

Katie's face burned.

"Your man, for one," Jones needled, "I heard Hellman and some of the other second string girls were making eyes at him from the player's box."

"Just to mess with me," Katie muttered, "I'm sure."

"Or perhaps they did some research, like I did, and discovered your man's one of the most eligible pure-blood bachelors in England," Jones said, her lips wiggling wildly, "very rich, apparently. The heir to some very swank looking mansions."

"Good for him," Katie said sourly, "but I'm not marrying the guy, Captain."

"Smart girl," Jones said, and she no longer could fight her own amusement and grinned, "buy your own mansion, that' s my motto. Fill it with oiled and muscled hunks that feed you grapes and fulfill your every desire."

"Sounds good," Katie said, losing the fight to a smile of her own. "also, Captain, in relation to nothing, can I get an invitation to your mansion full of oiled and muscled hunks some time?"

"If you distract the right boys next week, sure," Jones said, "but avoid rich boys unless it's for your own brief fun, Bell. They aren't worth the headache. Keep up your performance on the field and you'll be rich yourself soon."

"Good advice," Katie said. It was, if she wasn't so dumb that she kept not taking it.

"Take notes," Jones urged, still looking amused, "and don't ever let yourself get beholden to a rich boy, Bell. They don't like to give, as wealthy as they are. They only like to take."

* * *

Katie waited in the locker room so long with Ginny that no one else was left but Hellman, whose post shower routine was legendary. She couldn't risk Montague waiting for her outside the pitch, probably to confront her about something or other. She didn't even know what, but he hadn't looked happy when she'd briefly glanced at him post-match, for all that he was on his feet and clapping as everyone cheered around him, including Pucey.

Ginny was attempting to braid Katie's hair in some complicated pattern as a pretext for their dawdling, but judging by the sidelong looks Hellman was shooting them as she primped in the mirror Katie had the feeling they weren't fooling her.

"OW!" Katie said, wincing, as Ginny pulled too sharply and a snarl appeared in her hair.

"Sorry," Ginny said, trying to fix the snarl and making it worse.

Hellman blotted red magical lipstick on her pouty lips. As much as she couldn't stand the girl even Katie had to admit Hellman was sexy, damn her. She was the only second-string player in the league with more than one sponsor. Even Alicia, who languished in the second string for the Kestrals, only had one sponsor and that, as Alicia admitted, was due to her war heroine status more then anything else. Alicia was remarkably blase about her current career trajectory, but then again Alicia was more of a Harry and George type and had therefore never lived and breathed Quidditch the way Angelina, Katie, and Oliver did.

"Want to borrow this?" Hellman asked Katie unexpectedly, holding out the magical lipstick.

"No thanks," Katie said hastily, trying to fix her hair and avoid Hellman's eye. Alicia had tried to teach Katie how to do magical makeup many times, but she'd stuck to Muggle makeup. Katie only went out to pubs and clubs with her Muggle friends for the anonymity, and she couldn't exactly wear makeup that stayed perfect all night through drinks and sweating and dancing. The rest of the time, Katie was far too lazy to bother with makeup.

"I can put it on you," Hellman said, humiliating Katie by guessing correctly why she'd turned her offer down, "it will be fun!"

"Leave her alone, Hellman," Ginny snapped.

"You'd look good with more of a purple," Hellman said doggedly to Ginny, "it will look nice with your hair."

"Are you feeling okay, Hellman?" Ginny said, attempting to braid Katie's hair again.

Hellman, surprisingly, looked hurt.

"You know we could make a killing in sponsors if you two weren't so stubborn and Jones wasn't so uptight," Hellman said, "the three of us. We could hang out together all the time, making the boys drool. The hot trio of Chasers. Think of all the positive press! Jones couldn't even be mad once the money starts rolling in. You don't have to worry about making yourselves look good, I can fix you two up a bit."

"You slag," Ginny said, but then she started to giggle, presumably at the thought of the three of them prancing around for staged candid photos in skimpy clothes and eating ice cream in full faces of makeup, "and we're already hot, I'll have you know."

"Not as hot as me," Hellman said smugly and, to be fair, truthfully. "At least let me give you some of this for your man, Bell," She said, coming forward with the lipstick again, and before Katie could protest, she was getting lipstick smeared all over her mouth.

"He's not my man," Katie said stiffly, but somehow Ginny was styling her hair and Hellman was now attacking her with eye makeup and Katie was getting some sort of twisted makeover for their team celebratory dinner. She could only hope that Montague had the good sense to stay away from it and know that he wasn't invited.

Montague, of course, had no sense.

"Bell," Montague said as she wandered out of the locker room with Ginny and Hellman, who were laughing together a bit too much for comfort, Ginny's lips painted deep purple red and her hair in a twisted knot on the top of her head, Katie in a Holyhead shirt and jeans, her painted face and well done hair clashing with her club makeup.

Pucey was next to him, both of them leaning on the wooden fence that surrounded the player's area.

"What are you doing here?" Katie blurted in horror.

What she meant to say was, what are you _still_ doing here, or how did you get this close to the player's box when we have security, but the words twisted in her mouth. She thought for sure if they Apparated from just outside the fence where the wards ended she'd get away Scot free, even if Montague had been waiting where the rest of the fans hung out, but perhaps she overestimated the Harpies security witches and wizards.

"Who'd you bribe to get in?" Ginny said sourly as Pucey eyed her in turn, before his eyes drifted to Hellman and his face changed expression to something unreadable.

"Hello, good to see you again, Graham," Hellman said, her voice lower than usual, her tits jutting out so forcefully Katie bit off a comment about poking out someone's eye. They'd been getting along with Hellman for twenty solid minutes. No need to ruin it over Montague.

"It seems my ticket got lost en route, Bell," Montague said, ignoring Ginny and Hellman utterly, "bad owl?"

Katie affected a look of confusion, pretending she was Luna Lovegood getting asked about the state of the Ministry. That sort of fanatical innocence combined with a fervent belief in the absurd unnerved even the stoutest person.

"How terrible," Katie said, "I'm sure I sent you a pair."

Montague's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure you did," he said, "shall I buy you a new owl, Bell? Seems whichever one you used was faulty."

"How nice of you," Hellman interjected, floating in front of Katie. When she passed her, Katie could see the sexy little twist to her mouth, the fluttering of her long lashes. "Katie, you're so lucky!"

"So lucky," Pucey repeated sarcastically, and Katie tore her eyes away from the insolent anger on Montague's face and looked at Pucey, perplexed. She was sure Hellman would be catnip to a boy like Pucey, but he was looking her up and down like she was trash.

"Great," Katie said, loudly, moving in front of Hellman again, not sure what was going on and not wanting whatever it was to get worse, "send it to my flat, would you? We've got a dinner to get to, see you soon?"

"Katie, isn't your boyfriend coming?" Hellman said, elbowing Katie to the side again. Her voice traveled and a nearby security wizard glanced over. Oh no.

"Katie's single as you well know," Ginny said, even louder, her eyes also darting to the security wizard. "Players only, you know the rules Hellman," Katie said hastily.

"That's not-" Hellman started to say.

"You played well, Bell," Pucey said, joining Montague in ignoring Hellman like she didn't exist, "great move with the Finbourgh Flick in the second half."

"Thanks," Katie said, surprised.

"You always got Flint with that one, it drove him mad," Pucey said with a smile.

"That it did," Montague said shortly.

"Well, thanks for coming," Katie said nervously.

Why was it she was noticing more and more witnesses every moment to her shame? Maybe she could play this off as fanboys, or old school chums. She didn't see the bright green robes and quill of Rita Skeeter anywhere, but that didn't mean she didn't have sources.

"Thank you for inviting us," Pucey said, apparently unaware of the rage boiling off his friend, "best match I've seen in a while."

"Oh, I don't know," Montague said, "Bell's dropping of the Quaffle for no reason was pretty terrible."

Pucey glanced at his friend.

"Happens to the best of us," he said lightly.

"And the worst, more often," Montague said meanly.

Hellman laughed like a wind chime clanging on an organ bell, tossing her hair and her tits while more of the security wizards turned to stare.

"You'd know all about the worst players," Ginny said, even meaner, "not like either of you got on a professional team, did you?"

Montague opened his mouth to say something that was no doubt going to be awful and Pucey jumped in again.

"Well, we never had your natural talent, Weasley, no need to rub it in," he said, "I'm already torn up about my boring life."

Katie tried to smile for the witnesses. No one could overhear this, right? Rita couldn't get on the players grounds, could she? But then again, Pucey and Montague shouldn't have been able to...

"And who might you be?" Hellman asked Pucey.

"Let's get going," Pucey said, as if Hellman was invisible and mute, "let the team celebrate together, eh Graham?"

Montague's jaw muscle jumped, but he nodded stiffly. Hellman was still trying to gamely smile. Ginny was scowling, her face like thunder.

"Great," Katie said, almost boneless with relief that she was escaping disaster, "see you around."

"My mother's birthday dinner is next Friday," Montague told her, "I'll come round to get you at seven."

"Oh, of course," Katie said, remembering their little joke, "how could I forget. I've got my aubergine colored dress and all, so you don't have to get me one. Are you bringing the rubies?"

Hellman gasped a little, and when Pucey finally looked at her again his lip curled.

"The amethysts," Montague corrected, "remember?"

"Yeah, how wonderful," Katie said, "make sure I get a tiara too, don't forget."

"Great, maybe ask Alicia if she can come?" Pucey said hopefully, "I haven't got a date yet."

"Totally," Katie said, fighting a laugh, "she'll wear spandex and yellow leather. It will be great."

"No one looks like a Hufflepuff in my mother's home," Montague said dryly, and Hellman gasped at the insult to her house.

"Well, whatever," Katie shrugged, "we'll dress accordingly to rub shoulders with pure-bloods in their natural reptilian habitat. Anyway, we've got to go, they're probably all drunk without us already!"

She darted out the gate, walking as fast past Montague as possible, ignoring his attempts to talk to her back, and Apparated away, Ginny and Hellman following, a rush of blood to her head from the apparition and the relief.

"What the fuck was his mate's problem?" Hellman demanded loudly as they walked around to the entrance of the pub, her flirtatious manner completely gone. This irate version of Hellman was infinitely preferable.

"He's a Slytherin," Ginny said, like that explained all. Katie nodded. It did explain all.

They walked into the pub, Hellman still fuming. Katie spotted Jones from across the room, and waved at the other Harpies and their guests. She had, of course, been lying that she couldn't invite someone.

"Katie," Ginny said, as they made their way over, "you realize Montague wasn't joking, right?"

"Of course, he was," Katie snorted, "invite the Mudblood to his precious mother's birthday dinner of snobbery? Come on. I'd use the wrong fork and slouch at the table and call someone a bigot within minutes. That's assuming they even let me in the door. That's assuming his parents don't have strokes from rage."

"Weasley's right," Hellman said, "and good luck to you. I'm guessing his little friend knows I'm a Mudblood too and that's why he was acting like I'm dirt under his foot. Not sure why his mate is being nice to _you_, though. Your parents are just as poor and undesirable as mine. Well, have fun with getting treated like that all night, Bell."

She sauntered away from the girls, making her way to the table and what was surely many men drooling over her.

"Of course he was joking," Katie said, standing still, "come on."

"Better buy a purple dress," Ginny said grimly.

* * *

The day from hell had all started with a newspaper.

"Don't we get a copy of the _Prophet_ by now?" Katie asked, sipping a glass of orange juice. Jones had given them Sunday off to rest, and she hadn't been able to talk Ange or Alicia into brunch for some reason. Edith was probably pining about their absence!

"Oh, how strange," Alicia said, picking up a muffin and shoving it whole into her mouth.

Katie turned to look. "Hungry, Alicia?"

Alicia made muffled muffin mouth noises.

"We could've gotten brunch you know," Katie said for the fifteenth time, "if you're so starving."

"Got a date with George," Ange said, and then promptly stuffed a cheese Danish into her own mouth.

"At nine am?" Katie asked, bewildered, "and while I'm at it, why are you two even awake?"

"No reason," both girls mumbled around pastries.

"Why am _I_ awake," Katie mumbled, her eyes itching from lack of sleep. They'd partied for hours last night, no one had picked the Harpies to beat the Magpies but Jones, who had placed a hefty bet against the captain of the Magpies and won so many galleons she'd paid for the order of everyone in the pub.

"No idea," Alicia said, after swallowing her muffin.

"Go back to sleep," Ange said.

"Not until I find the paper," Katie said stubbornly, "I want to see how they wrote up the match."

"Oh, I'll rustle up a copy," Ange said, "give you the articles. Go on, get some more sleep."

Katie paused, a half of a bagel in her hand still. She looked left at Alicia, who immediately got up to pour herself a cup of tea. She looked right at Ange, who was fussing with one of the many bouquets Montague had sent, changing the water, even though she could've used her wand to do it instead.

"All right, spill," Katie said shortly, putting down her bagel.

"What?" her friends both said in unison.

"Neither of you are ever awake this early," Katie said.

"I've got practice,' Alicia said, "not every one of us won our game last night, you know."

"That's right," Ange agreed, "I'm sneaking in a quick date with George first, that's all."

"Who's watching the shop?" Katie demanded.

"Ron," Ange said promptly.

"Who took our paper?" Katie said, crossing her arms.

"Who knows," Alicia shrugged, "the owl is probably just late. Calm down, Katie."

That did it. Katie slumped over, her head in her palm.

"Rita wrote an article?"

"No," Alicia said hastily, "of course not."

"What do you mean?" Ange said at the same time.

"Just let me read it," Katie said wearily, "it can't be that bad."

"There's no article," Alicia said.

"The paper is just late, Katie!" Ange agreed.

As if on cue, an owl flew toward the open kitchen window.

Katie felt guilty. Pretending to have feelings for Montague in order to manipulate him to protect her reputation was taking its toll. Faux dating a Slytherin was taking its toll. They were always lying and manipulating, deceiving and conniving. It was like trying to ice skate on feet covered in oil.

"Sorry," Katie said, reaching for the owl with a sigh as it shook its feathers, not noticing the way Alicia and Ange tensed, "I've gotten so testy and paranoid. I'm blaming Mont-"

She looked at the owl's beak. It was not a copy of the _Prophet_. The envelope was red.

"What in the Snorkack hell-"

The Howler began to smoke. Through their window flew another owl.

Alicia lunged for her wand, casting a silencing charm on the flat's walls to protect their Muggle neighbors.

The second owl held out another red envelope to Katie.

"Run," Alicia squealed.

"Open it," Ange said.

Katie took a deep breath and ripped open the envelope at the same time that the second letter began to smoke, and a third owl flew through the window.

"COMPLETE TRASH LIKE YOU DON'T DESERVE A FINE PURE-BLOOD BOY. SAVE HIM FOR GOOD PURE-BLOOD GIRLS LIKE MY NIECE YOU SHAMELESS MUGGLE HUSSY!"

"Hussy," Katie said as her ears rang, "wow. That's some nineteen fifty-two-ish insult right there-"

The second letter exploded as she tried to reach for it.

"YOU SUCK AT QUIDDITCH BELL BUT YOU SUCK PURE-BLOOD COCK MORE YOU SLUT. COME SUCK MINE TOO AND I'LL GIVE YOU A GALLEON."

"Who sent that?" Alicia shouted, her ears covered, and her face screwed up, "and can we get a restraining order on him?"

A fourth owl jostled in place on top of the baked goods. The third owl knocked over the orange juice carton as it waved its Howler at Katie.

"I would hope I'd be a higher priced call girl then one galleon a blow-job," Katie tried to joke.

"You did it for free," Alicia reminded her.

"Hey," Katie said indignantly, her eardrums throbbing, "nothing was suck-"

The third Howler exploded before Ange could get to it.

"YOU WHORE YOU AREN'T EVEN PRETTY AND YOUR TITS ARE THE SIZE OF GRAPES. HOW DID YOU TAKE AN ELIGIBLE BACHELOR AWAY FROM MY SISTER AND ME?"

"Guess some of them are into incest," Katie said, trying to joke. "And polygamy." The owls were now pecking each other.

"YOU TRAITOR, DON'T YOU REMEMBER FRED WEASLEY AND PROFESSOR LUPIN AND LAVENDER BROWN AND COLIN CREEVEY?"

Katie felt her face drain of blood.

"HOW COULD YOU DATE ONE OF THEIR SLYTHERIN KILLERS KATIE? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?"

"He was in Saint Mungo's," Katie said weakly. Outside the window, she could see a mass of owls flying their way, "during the fight. I checked last week, because everyone was so sure he might be a Death Eater. I asked the junior Healer on the spell damage ward, Smills, we got to be good friends when I was there, and Montague had a relapse-"

Another Howler exploded, this one from a fan of hers who had proposed marriage repeatedly, was a sixty-two year old wizard with four hairs left on his head, and had once painted his own arse with _Katie Bell will you be under my spell_? And mooned her mid match.

Ange conjured some cotton and shoved it in her ears grimly, holding pieces out to Alicia and Katie, and then topped it with a conjured set of earmuffs.

The Howlers went on for another hour. They would've gone on even longer, but George arrived with earmuffs already in place, and sprinkled a pink powder over the Howlers. They still smoked, shook, and exploded, but the insults were shrieked in blessed silence.

"Bellowing Banshee Counteracting Powder," George told them while they all removed the earmuffs and cotton, wincing. "Newest line of Wheezes products for the mischief maker dumb enough to get caught. We're going to make a killing on them."

"Presumably from yours and Ron's purchases alone," Angelina said, eyeing the dormant Howler like she wasn't sure the lack of screaming could be trusted or not.

"I will accept your gratitude in the form of spontaneous dance numbers," George said, throwing himself on the sofa.

"Thank you George," Katie said, pinching the spot between her brows where her throbbing headache was worst, while Alicia enthusiastically burst into a dance that combined the twist, the disco point, and the running man in an abomination to the eyes.

"Least I could do after that hatchet job in the paper," George said, as Angelina made frantic shushing gestures at him and Alicia changed her dance to a flail that contained a vigorous shake of the head.

"I wouldn't know," Katie said, "our copy has mysteriously not been delivered, haven't you heard?"

"Ah, of course," George said, "lucky for you, Katie, I picked up an extra copy to wipe my arse with later. Here you go."

He pulled a copy from his back pocket and tossed it to her, Alicia and Angelina giving up all pretense and trying to snatch it midair before Katie could get to it.

It was already folded to the gossip section and the damning headline.

_War Heroine Sleeps with Mysterious Pure-Blood Slytherin _was screaming at Katie in inch high letters.

Beneath said headline was a picture of Montague and Pucey from after her game the week before, both clad in Holyhead Harpies shirts, their faces covered fully with giant purple question marks.

"Who took this photo?" Katie asked. She certainly hadn't seen anyone anywhere near them aside from the security wizards, and no one had had a camera.

"Does it matter?' Alicia said grimly, and Katie read the article out loud, expecting the worst.

"One of the wizarding world's most famous bachelorettes has found a man at last, writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent."

"At _last_?" Katie said, affronted. Nate the Bartender had agreed to meet with her for coffee in two days! And it hadn't been that long since her last bloke!

"Not the point, is it?" George said lightly.

"Long a coveted witch for rich and poor members of the wizarding world alike to snag, Katie Bell, who gained fame from her very close personal relationship with The-Boy-Who-Lived, has found an admirer in one mysterious Slytherin alumni and pure-blood heir to a large family fortune. Although Miss Bell has denied being in a relationship, even going so far as to refuse her new boyfriend entry into the Holyhead Harpies celebratory dinner after their last match, I can exclusively reveal that their clandestine relationship is very real. 'She talks about him all time, says Sheila Hellman, Bell's Holyhead teammate and close friend, 'I think she's obsessed, honestly.'"

"WHAT!" Katie shouted, louder than even the Howler that had screamed about how she was a long-legged skank who was using love potions to snag rich wizards.

"That bitch!" Alicia said loudly, even though of course Alicia must have read this all hours ago, and been part of the cover-up with Angelina.

"Traitorous hussy," George nodded, lips twitching.

Katie couldn't even decide what was worse: Hellman talking about her relationship, Hellman calling her obsessed with Montague, or Hellman claiming they were close friends.

"The gorgeous Miss Hellman, who some consider a better flyer then Miss Bell but was mysteriously denied a spot on the team—"

"Mysterious my ass," George said loudly, "she can't fly in a straight line!"

This was not, strictly true, and Katie had spent more than one night lying awake after a bad practice in a sweat, wondering when Jones would boot her from first string for Hellman even before this mess with Montague but she appreciated the sentiment, nonetheless.

"-assures me that Miss Bell and her new Slytherin boytoy have been dating for quite some time, spending many nights—"

"Once," Katie interrupted herself again resentfully, "once!" She picked up the paper again in disgust.

"-many nights at her Slytherin hunk's luxurious flat. One can't help but be reminded of the rumors of Miss Bell's new beaux's father's dealings with Lucius Malfoy during the war, and the amount of money drained from the family vaults during this time that has never been accounted for."  
"They probably bought a fourteenth mansion somewhere," George grunted, then he shook his head in disgust. "and hang on, why am I defending Montague?"

"Such is the odiousness that is Rita Skeeter," Alicia said solemnly.

Katie cleared her throat as he heart pounded sickeningly, then continued, waiting for Rita to drop the bombshell on who Katie was actually dating.

"While I can't help but admire true love-"

Angelina gagged loudly.

"- in the face of insurmountable odds like class disparity, rival houses, potential Death Eater dealings, and a vast difference in beauty—"

Katie looked at her friends indignantly.

"Is she calling me ugly on top of it?" she asked.

"It's a Rita classic," George said sympathetically, "it's almost done Katie. Finish her off."

"—a person can't help but wonder what these two very different people have in common, and if their friends and family approve of a match between an aristocratic bad boy—"

Ange gagged louder.

"—from a wealthy You-Know-Who sympathetic family and the girl who used to be the rumored paramour of the wizarding world's favorite hero, The-Boy-Who-Lived." Katie threw the paper away from her in a ball.

"No one said that until Rita made it up!" Katie said, enraged, "No one ever said Harry and I dated!" "Buck up, you having an affair with Harry is still less awful then you banging Montague," Alicia said.

"She's saying I'm doing both!" Katie reminded her friends.

"Well," Ange said after exchanging looks with George, "actually…keep reading, Katie."

"You have a good work ethic," George said, "really, top marks, Katie, apparently you've made it with Oliver too, don't forget past articles from old Rita."

"I've apparently got more miles flown on me then Pansy Parkinson," Katie said sourly.

"But better taste," Alicia said while George gagged with Ange, "I mean, no one's accusing you of Malfoy, at least!"

Katie sighed, and picked up the paper again reluctantly, straightening it out. Rita was making rather an ordeal of not writing Montague's name for some reason. "Although your writer recognized immediately who this sexy wizard was, Miss Hellman begged me not to reveal the identity of Miss Bell's boyfriend, citing the backlash they'd both face for this forbidden romance."

"What?" Katie shouted again, looking around wildly in disbelief, "but she…Hellman…Rita posted a picture of Montague and Pucey _right here_!" she jabbed violently at the paper, "it's just missing the faces!" she sat down abruptly, her head spinning. Was she saved? Was her secret still safe? Could she stop Rita somehow, stuff her in a trunk like Barty Crouch Junior had done to Mad-Eye Moody her fifth year, get some centaurs to tie her up like Umbridge, bribe her with…what? What could you bribe Rita Skeeter with? She read on, face tingling in panicked confusion.

"But it's only a matter of time before Miss Bell's new lover is revealed, and the strength of their most likely doomed romance tested- what in the bloody hell!" Katie said, slumping over with boneless relief mixed with deepest bewilderment.

"It sounds like a threat," George said ominously, cracking his knuckles, "doesn't it?"

"Yes," Katie said at once, "And Hellman too, right? That sounded like a threat? Why would she reveal all of these details about our relationship, most of them made up, mind you, and then—" Katie picked up the paper to reread the section, "beg Rita not to reveal who Montague is because of the backlash we'd both face?"

"She wants something from you," Ange said at once.

"Rita?" Katie asked, "or Hellman?"

"Yes," Ange nodded.

"Which one?" Katie asked.

"Both," Ange, Alicia, and George said at once, and Katie groaned.

"None of this makes any sense! Hellman was nice to me for twenty whole minutes last night!"

"Until?" Alicia prompted.

"Until Montague and Pucey showed up and Pucey was rude to her for no reason," Katie frowned, "maybe that was it? But I can't control Pucey!"

"Only Alicia can," George nodded, his lips twitching, and Alicia threw a pot at him that he caught with a smirk.

"Maybe Rita didn't pay her enough," Alicia mused.

"Maybe they're both going to blackmail me," Katie groaned, "but I'm poor! I mean, kind of."

"Maybe they want something else from you," Ange said.

Katie's eyes widened in alarm.

"Like what?"

A loud crack sounded in the flat and they all shrieked, even George, though he denied it later.

There was a house elf with large purplish eyes and enormous ears. From each ear dangled one golden hoop.

Katie had never seen this elf before in her life, yet she knew who this was.

"Hello, Sassy," she said, exhausted.

The elf was holding a purple leather box affixed with a purple velvet ribbon that matched her eyes.

"Hello Mistress Katie!" the elf squeaked, "Sassy is so pleased to be meeting miss! Sassy cannot wait until she can dress Miss for the wedding!"

George gave a full body shuddering yelp.

Katie ignored this comment. There was no point in arguing with a house elf, none at all. She'd tried to tell that to Hermione years ago and Hermione had replied, "actually Katie, there's no point in arguing with _me_." That had started her avoidance and vague fear of Hermione Granger, a fear that had only grown when she'd cursed Marietta Edgecombe and Confunded McLagggen, not that Katie had exactly been upset at that last one.

"You've brought me something from him?" Katie said, resigned.

"Oh yes, miss!" Sassy squeaked. She was better dressed them most house elves, Katie would give Montague that. Of course, dressing your house slave well was not exactly a ringing endorsement of your quality as a human being.

Sassy opened the box, and her friends gasped probably against their will, but Katie felt no surprise. Of course it was the amethyst jewels.

"Master Graham says here's your gift, to wear with your pretty Muggle dress on Friday!" Sassy squeaked. She handed the box to Katie. It weighed a lot. "Master says show your nice legs, Miss Katie!"

George heaved.

"Will do, Sassy," Katie said. So Montague wanted her to be sexy? She could be so sexy he would _choke_ on it.

"Master Graham says he would like to see you before Friday, but he will be busy convincing Master Edgar not to disown him!" Sassy squeaked happily. "After Master Edgar recognized Master Graham in that paper this morning! Master screamed so much Sassy's ears hurt!"

"Noted," Katie said dryly.

"Sassy is being offered to help miss Katie with her hair and makeup for the dinner!" Sassy said, "Sassy can make you even prettier, miss!"

"Thank you," Katie said, thinking of how Alicia expertly applied makeup with a trowel for her nights out and then subsequently had to beat men off of her all night, "but I've got it covered."  
"If Miss is sure! Goodbye, Miss," Sassy squeaked, curtsying.

"See you Friday," Katie said, her stomach in knots.

"Oh no," Sassy said, her eyes huge, "Sassy would be a bad elf if you saw Sassy at a party!"

Katie had no idea how to reply to this awful statement and instead gaped like a carp until the house elf Disapparted after curtsying to her friends as well.

She looked down at the monstrous jewels in her hands. They were ropes of diamonds studded throughout with obscenely large amethysts. The earrings were just as ostentatious, diamonds on a string leading to the large teardrop shaped amethyst dangling below.

"Wow," Alicia said, picking up a strand and inspecting it, "did she say this was a gift?"

"I think so," Katie said uneasily.

"Not a loan?" Ange demanded, picking up an earring.

"I'm sure it's just a loan," Katie said, her stomach twisting further. Montague couldn't possibly be gifting her this set of jewels. Right?

"You can't wear this with that purple Muggle club dress we got you," Alicia said briskly.

"Why not?" George said, "thumb your nose at the lot of them, Katie. Sell the jewels and make that statue of Fred we discussed. He can be pissing on Voldemort's corpse or something."

And just like that, her stomach untwisted, and Katie laughed.

"I just might," she said, "and you're right Alicia, I can't wear that dress. it's bright purple. I promised him aubergines."

The Howlers she pushed from her thoughts, the vicious article, the letters of despair from her slightly less hostile amorous fans, the upcoming blackmail percolating in Hellman and Rita Skeeter's minds. Her secret was still safe. People didn't know, not really. Not yet. There was still a game to play. And Katie was good at winning games.

"Let's go shopping."

* * *

**Author Note:** Thank you all so much for your support! My reviews are my fuel right now in this awful time. :) For one of my guest reviews...yes, alas, poor Alicia tried on bikinis too...because she does like to mess with Pucey, and kind of enjoyed herself. :)


	9. Dinner and a Murder?

**Chapter ****N****ine: Dinner and a Murder?**

Katie played with her straw wrapper, looking around the hip coffee shop called _Painted Beans._ Every other girl in here aside from Katie had either a facial piercing, visible tattoos, or an edgy hairstyle. The girl at the table on her left had all three. Half of her head was shaved to the skull and the other was flamingo pink. And then there was Katie, the boring square.

She was wearing a navy dress patterned with sunflowers and sandals. Her hair was in a messy bun. She even thought phrases like "boring square" for Merlin's sake. In contrast to her comparatively schoolmarm outfit she had an aubergine colored dress in her closet that was floor length and satin. Next to the dress on a shelf was a box of amethyst jewels worth more than her parent's entire livelihoods. She had a rich, fake boyfriend and a wand strapped to her ankle, a habit from the war, and a purse in the shape of a tropical fish. What the hell was she doing here?

The door chimed from another customer coming in, but it was a couple wearing matching leather jackets and holding motorcycle helmets. Katie picked up her iced coffee and took a sip, just to give herself something to do.

No one else paid Katie any mind but the flamingo haired girl glanced at Katie, her eyes lingering on the fish purse, and rolled her eyes.

That was it. She should leave. She should have never come here in the first place. Then again, she should have never done anything she'd done the last few weeks.

The door opened again just as Katie had made her mind up to leave, to come to her senses and stop making these reckless choices and go back to being the staid war heroine who carefully, very carefully lived her life according to plan.

"Hello," the man said who walked in. The flamingo haired girl glanced up, eyed the new occupant of the coffee shop, and raised an eyebrow when he walked directly over to Katie, sitting down with a smile, "I was beginning to think I'd lost my shot with you, Katie."

Katie smiled, her fingers twisting the straw wrapper again.

"Not at all," she told Nate the bartender.

What was she doing? Had she lost her mind?

"You look beautiful," Nate told her, his lip ring catching the sunlight.

"Thank you," Katie said, feeling herself blush like an idiot. "I do feel a little out of sorts here, I've got to admit."

Nate laughed. He was wearing a rather tight t-shirt, and Katie could see all of his lovely muscles and pretty face far too clearly in this nice lighting. He was even better looking than she remembered.

"A girl like you fits in anywhere," the bartender said.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Katie said, twisting the straw wrapper again as the flamingo haired girl glowered at her.

"Let's get out of here," Nate said, "you seem uncomfortable, and I want you to have fun with me. Bad enough we met cause some idiot was pawing at you, yeah?"

Katie saw a flash of his tongue ring, remembered how it had felt in her mouth, and blushed.

"But you were my hero," Katie said.

Her eyelashes even fluttered. Her friends would be proud of her for trying out this technique of seduction. Of course, they would be very displeased if they knew it was being tested on another bloke. As much as she tried to tell Alicia and Angelina everything, she hadn't told them the truth of who she was meeting when she left their flat. They didn't need to know that she'd lost every last shred of her mind.

"I try," Nate said, smiling. He took Katie's hand, like a gentleman, even if his appearance would make her father faint, and led her from the shop and into London.

"Did you get in trouble for helping me?" Katie asked, casting about for a topic of conversation.

"Not at all," Nate said easily, "I got some claps on the back for scoring your number. It's not every night the prettiest girl in the bar kisses you and lets you take her out again."

Katie laughed airily. It sounded false to her own ears. She was acting like a simpering idiot, the kind that Montague loathed so much. But this was the type of boy she should be pursuing. Nice, but rough enough on the surface to still make things exciting. So why wasn't she excited?

"Although I'm mucking it all up by taking you to a pretentious coffee shop," Nate said, "aren't I?"

"No," Katie said automatically, as a pit sunk in her stomach, "I like pink hair." She had actually considered dying her hair turquoise a year ago, to match her eyes, before remembering she was too boring for such flashy things. Or so she had thought.

_He's mucking it up by not being Montague,_ a little evil voice said in her head, and she pushed it away. Of course he wasn't Montague. That was the whole point of seeing him for a date. That was the whole appeal. Wasn't it?

"You'd look nice with pink hair," Nate said, "but really, you'd look good with any hair. Or no hair. I don't discriminate."

Katie laughed. "That's good," she said, "I'd rather fancy you with an orange Mohawk, myself."

"Oh yeah?" Nate said, "well, I hate to disappoint, but that might take a while to grow out."

"That's it, you've lost your shot," Katie sighed.

"A new record for me," Nate said cheerfully, "what can I do to win you back?"

_You're already succeeding by not being Montague,_ Katie's brain said snidely, but was that true? Was it really? Why wasn't her stomach fluttering like it had when she'd last seen Montague outside her game? Sure, that stomach flutter had been fear and panic, but-

"Oh no," Nate said, "I've ruined everything already, eh?"

"No," Katie said quickly, and too loudly. She winced.

"Great," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulder with ease, like they were a couple on a date and Katie finally felt that twist in her stomach. It had nothing to do with the fact that she'd pictured Montague running into them like this and how he'd react. It had nothing to do with that.

"Say, how's your fella feel about us going about together?" Nate said, reading her mind.

"Montague's not my fella," Katie said, "I mean… who do you…what are you talking about?"

They walked by a park and turned in, the sun so unusually shining on them as they strolled among the frolicking Muggles.

As usual, when Katie was surrounded by Muggles she felt like she was home. If home was somewhere where she no longer quite belonged.

"Well, that wasn't suspicious," Nate said, "not that he doesn't have it coming, but I don't usually kiss girls with blokes. It's not my style."

"He's my sworn enemy from school," Katie said, "we ran into him by accident that night. My friends hadn't met him before, so they didn't realize what a pillock he is."

"I see," Nate said, "well, that's good news. Not that I couldn't take him a fight, mind you, but-"

"There will be no fighting," Katie said hastily. There wouldn't be. Montague would never know what she was doing. In fact, Katie didn't even know what she was doing.

"Excellent," Nate said, "not that you're not worth it, luv."

"Thanks," Katie said, automatically.

This was the type of bloke she should've scratched her itch with. Sure, the likelihood of her finding her long-term partner in a pretty and tattooed Muggle bartender were low. He was probably a player, for one. Her parents would have strokes, for another. He might freak out when she'd eventually have to tell him about the whole witch thing. But this Muggle boy was still a thousand times better for her than Montague. And when she was done toying with her Slytherin bastard, and had gotten her knickers and reputation back, she needed a nice, healthy alternative.

"So," Katie said, falsely cheerful, "tell me all about you!"

* * *

"You traitorous little hussy," Ginny said as Hellman sauntered into the locker room, "I should've known you were full of shite when you were being nice to us on Saturday."

Juliet, Shelley, and Marielle watched from their lockers as they all stripped off to get on their practice gear. The second and third string girls watched avidly. If anyone disliked Hellman more than the first-string girls, it was the backup girls. It wasn't just that Hellman thought herself far above them in talent and worth, but that the sponsors and fans had the audacity to agree with her.

Katie cringed. She had wanted to confront Hellman, wanted it with every fiber in her body, but she'd made Ginny swear she'd keep her mouth shut about the newspaper article. The last thing she needed was more drama in front of Jones, when her slot on first string was already so tenuous. Ginny, she thought, was an honest Gryffindor to the bone and her promise could be trusted. But she should've remembered who her elder brothers were.

"How much did Skeeter pay you, Hellman?" Shelly called over from her locker. Shelley Smathers had been the Seeker for the Harpies for years, and no one was more essential to a team then the star seeker. It gave most of them a bit of a prima donna attitude, except for Harry, bless him. "And are you that desperate for money?"

"Obviously she is," Annie Simmons from second string called out, "look at how she's always calling _Witch Weekly's_ photographers for exclusive photos of her in the skimpiest robes."

Hellman, who had tricked Katie into thinking she might have a shred of niceness in her, tossed her hair without an ounce of shame.

"You all sound jealous, girls," she said, swaying her hips on her way to her locker, "I would think you would thank me, Bell," she threw over her shoulder, "for not saying the identity of your man."

"Rita knew who he was, you slag," Ginny said, outraged, her face as red as her hair, "don't act like you made her keep the secret!"

"You read the article, clearly," Hellman shrugged, "wasn't I quoted as begging Rita not to reveal who dear Katie is shagging for fun? Wouldn't want to cause strife in her life, of course, us being such mates and all."

"You absolute bitch," Juliet, the fist string Beater said, her voice almost admiring, "this won't get you on first string, you know."

Hellman made eye contact with Katie; whose tongue felt numb. She knew Hellman was a viper, and she'd been tricked anyway, just like she had with Anastasia Higgs in her fifth year. When would she learn? When would she learn that you could only trust your friends that had proven themselves, and not cutthroat witches trying to steal your dream job, and wizards with more money than morals?

"This has nothing to do with first string," Hellman said, still looking at Katie, "I was helping out a friend, is all."

"Katie isn't your friend," Ginny snarled," and neither am I. No one likes you, Hellman. No one."

"Your boyfriend was _very_ friendly to me when I spoke to him," Hellman said, and Juliet and Annie gasped at the audacity of her bringing up Harry, "but then again, he's a_ real_ hero, isn't he?"

"All of you stop gossiping and sniping like a group of middle aged witches with no lives," Jones barked as she emerged from her office, making them all jump, "I'm tired of hearing this nonsense." She stopped in front of them, an intimidating figure, despite her slight stature and deceptively round eyes. "This is what the boys expect of us as the only all woman team, you know," she chided, "gossip. Backstabbing. Petty little fights over men," she glared at Ginny and Katie, "preening in a mirror instead of practicing dive drills," the glare moved to Hellman, "are we champions or not?"

"Yes, sir!" Juliet barked, standing up, thumping her Beater's bat into her hand. No one did motivational speeches quite like Jones.

"Are we going to show those boys why they should fear us?" Jones barked.

"Yes, Captain!" Shelley said, also leaping to her feet, but as she was topless still, it had a slightly less impressive effect.

"Are we going to practice hard so we can win our next game?" Jones thundered, pacing.

"Yes, Captain!" Marielle said.

"And are we going to keep winning," Jones was now shouting, "until we make the playoffs?"

"Yes, Captain!" they all said in unison.

"And then," Jones positively screamed, "are we going to win the cup for the first time in twelve years?"

"Yes, Captain!" they all screamed back, so loud the locker doors rattled.

"Then go out there and start practicing!" Jones shouted, "and I don't want to hear a bloody word about anyone's lipstick, weekend date, or fuck buddy, is that clear?"

"Yes, Captain!"

"Good!" Jones turned her gimlet stare at Katie, who shrank down even though she had a good five inches on her Captain. "Bell, Weasley, Hellman, my office. Now. And the rest of you, don't think I want to catch you outside my office eavesdropping. Get out on that pitch!"

"Yes, Captain!"

Katie followed Jones, her heart sinking. How many more chats did she have with her iron-willed captain about her distracting behavior before she was kicked off the team for good? The only consolation was that Hellman was enraging Jones just as much, and the rest of the second-string chasers weren't up to snuff. Ginny was still red faced with rage, and Hellman sauntered after Katie, still in her street robes.

Jones waved her wand and her office door slammed shut so hard all three of them jumped.

"So," Jones said, glaring at them, and then she waited.

Ginny crossed her arms, lips pursed. Katie shrank further, her eyes lowering to the floor. Hellman yawned audibly.

The office was so silent as Jones's glare burned into Katie's lowered head that she could hear the rest of the team in the locker-room changing, even though the gossip had stopped for the time being.

The silence grew unbearably.

"It's her fault," Ginny said abruptly, "don't blame us for that attention hog running to the papers."

"I don't blame you," Jones said, and Katie looked up hopefully, "I blame Bell and Hellman for that one."

Katie cringed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Hellman glancing at her nails with faux affected boredom.

"I do, however, blame you for starting drama in my locker-room, Weasley," Jones barked.

"She started it," Ginny repeated mutinously.

Katie wasn't sure how she was the only one wilting under Jones's stare like an under watered plant, but then again Ginny didn't really have to worry. She was one of the star female Chasers in the entire league, girlfriend to The Chosen One, youngest member of the infamous Weasley family, all of whom had obtained heroism during the second world war. Ginny sold the most jerseys of any woman in the league aside from Jones herself. Ginny didn't actually have to be concerned about getting fired.

"I saw you pick a fight," Jones contradicted, "not her," she jerked her head at Hellman in disgust.

"She started it by ruining to the press to smear Katie," Ginny snarled, "I thought you were against that, Captain? Making us look like vapid little girls? Selling our secrets to the papers? Selling out your own teammate?"

"I am," Jones said, "and she'll pay for that," Katie was vaguely gratified to see Hellman freeze in her show of boredom. "But you should have let me handle it, Weasley."

"Yes, Captain," Ginny said stiffly.

"You can go, Weasley," Jones said, and when Ginny lingered, shooting looks at Katie, she added, "your loyalty does you credit, Weasley. But get the fuck out of my office before I regret not punishing you."

"Yes, Captain," Ginny said through her teeth, but she left.

"As for you two," Jones barked, "I've had it about up to here with both of you."

"Sorry, Captain," Katie said, finding her voice at last.

"Sorry, Captain," Hellman said contritely, "but I thought I was helping! Rita Skeeter found me after our victory party and told me she was going to write about Katie and her boyfriend unless I agreed to give her some good quotes for her story!"

Katie turned to look at her. Hellman looked like she was telling the truth. But Hellman was untrustworthy. Wasn't she?

"I find that hard to believe," Jones said, "Skeeter doesn't do favors like that. No, she's got her own agenda."

"But, I'm telling the truth!" Hellman said earnestly, "I didn't mean to—"

"Shut up, Hellman," Jones snapped, "as for you, Bell, you're lucky you distracted Adams with your tits, helping us win the game."

Hellman's eyebrows flew up.

"With her tits?" she echoed.

"I told you to shut up," Jones said, not even looking at her, "I'm at my wits end. Consider yourselves lucky every other Chaser we've got is rubbish."  
"Yes, Captain," Hellman and Katie said together.

"Both of you better do well next match," Jones said ominously, pointing at Katie, "and at practice," pointing at Hellman, "and not cause any drama in the meantime."

"Yes, Captain, "they chorused again, but when Katie saw the gleam in Hellman's eye, she wasn't so sure it was a promise that she was going to keep.

* * *

Katie stared at the owl in disbelief. It was next to another sixty-two howlers on her wardrobe, all thankfully nullified with George's Bellowing Banshee Counteracting Powder. The furor over her dating a mystery pure-blood Slytherin had not died down, in fact, it had grown exponentially after Rita had written a follow-up article with choice quotes from Flint hinting about her being the league's chosen broomstick, the _Bell 3000_ he'd so quaintly dubbed her. From Pansy Parkinson Rita had gotten hints about Katie's suspicious relationship with Harry, Oliver, and now Zacharias Smith of all people while they had been at Hogwarts.

There had been a slew of pure-blood young girls quoted in the article on how Katie had stolen one of their few options from them, shameless hussy that she apparently was, with a suspected dose of love potion since Katie was so old and dried up, poor dear, and so manly and gauche with the professional Quidditch and couldn't have possibly snagged a rich pureblood heir any another way. Even worse, Rita had hinted delicately at Montague's identity with vague descriptions of his family's mansions and father's dealings with various sketchy Death Eaters. As many pure-blood wizards could fit that description, it thankfully had not been enough to make it obvious who Montague really was. Ange had vowed the vilest of retaliations for the worst of the accusations which, of course, was the slur that Katie had once dated Zacharias Smith. It was a new low, even for Rita.

"He's not coming to get me?" Katie said, her voice rising to a squeak, "he said he was!"

"Stop moving about, Katie!" Alicia said as she pinned and wrapped her golden hair into some elaborate concoction on her head.

"Shouldn't he come get me?" Katie demanded, turning to Ginny, the only sacred twenty-eight pure-blood girl in the room and therefore, the most likely to know the etiquette of the situation.

"Don't look at me," Ginny shrugged, "I was raised in a pig barn according to his lot, remember?"

"Hermione?" Katie said in desperation. Surely the girl had read it in a book somewhere. If anyone had tortured themselves with a book on pure-blood dating etiquette it was Hermione Granger.

The bookworm in question had been staring at Katie with arms crossed and arms narrowed, like she was a difficult rune translation.

"Shouldn't she get more on her eyes," Hermione said to Alicia.

"I haven't even _started _on her face yet!" Alicia said indignantly, the designed peacock of the group and therefore the one tasked with making Katie presentable for the evening. She could only imagine how Hermione would have reacted to seeing Sassy doing Katie's hair and makeup when she arrived, had Katie agreed to her offer of help.

"Why isn't he coming to get me?" Katie said, louder. She was only in her knickers and her hair was half done but she'd go out to where the boys were playing games and drinking in the other room to get answers from Percy if she had to.

"Calm down," Angelina said, "why are you freaking out like this?"

Because what if he heard about the date with Nate, Katie thought, fear gripping her heart. Nothing had happened. They'd talked and wandered around a park and Katie had drunk her overpriced iced coffee and he'd kissed her on the cheek and promised to call again. He hadn't, though. Maybe because it had only been a few days. But maybe because he'd wanted a girl with more sparkle then Katie. Or maybe he had figured out that she'd spent the whole excursion with intruding thoughts of Montague.

"I'm not panicking," Katie said, "who is panicking?"

"It's normal," Hermione shrugged, "you're going to his family's home for a dinner party. Why should he need to come pick you up?"

"It's polite, and he said he would," Katie said, as Alicia finished her hair and moved on to attacking her face with magical makeup, "and if I have to go into a snake's nest by myself..."

"I don't envy you," Hermione agreed, but somehow that shamed Katie more.

Everyone knew how Hermione had gone into the Malfoy lair and lied to save the sword of Gryffindor from falling into the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange to her own peril. And here she was whining to the girl about a dinner party.

"I think this has gone far enough," Ange said unexpectedly, "everyone knows you're sleeping with a Slytherin now. Game's up. Just cut him loose and move on, Katie. Call that cute Muggle boy."

Katie squirmed.

"I don't have Nate's number," Katie said, which was true, he only had hers, "and you're wrong, it could still get worse. People don't know who it is."

"How could it get worse?" Ginny demanded, but then in the next breath she demanded Alicia put more eye-shadow on Katie. "Hellman knows the truth, and is holding it over you for reasons unknown, Katie!"

"Well, Montague hasn't told anyone, for one. It's not actually common knowledge yet. He hasn't sold the details of our…err…encounter to Rita," Katie said, feeling herself go red under all the makeup.

"God what did you _do_?" Alicia giggled, "you really need to tell us one day, Katie."

"Everyone already knows you slept with a pure-blood Slytherin from sketchy familial background," Ange said, "or at least, they assume."

"Thanks to Flint they assumed I've slept with half the Quidditch league," Katie said.

"So, what's the harm?" Ange said, "damage done. Own it, Katie. Who cares? We're in the 21st century! A girl's allowed to have some fun."

By the sideways look Ginny shot at Angelina Katie knew she also thought Ange was probably thinking about her own situation with George and the ghost of Fred Weasley.

"Yes, she is," Hermione said firmly.

"Oh, I agree," Alicia said, "and that's why Katie's got to give _us _some fun by toying with Montague more."

"That wasn't my point," Ange said.

"I know," Alicia said, painting Katie's lips now.

"I know I shouldn't care," Katie said gloomily, "I know. But people have refuted those things Flint said." She was absurdly grateful, considering she'd barely known half the Quidditch blokes who'd loudly gone on the record that Katie Bell was NOT the league broom and that Flint was a liar. "And I can't bear my parents and everyone I've ever met being able to hear about me in that...intimate of a way."

"Who says Montague would even sell you out like that?" Ange said, but when they all turned to look at she acquiesced. "I mean, he probably would."

"Slytherin," Hermione and Ginny said in unison.

"I've got some strong elf wine," Alicia said, "drink a glass, Katie. That'll help."

"You're turning me into an alcoholic," Katie said, but she accepted the glass, and a second glass, and a third, as they squeezed her into the ridiculous dress, her chest half out. It would be a lot more scandalous for a gown if her chest was actually large, or even medium sized. But as it was, the pure-bloods were still sure to faint from her horrible Muggle dress combined with the Montague family jewels. But really, wasn't that the point?

When she tottered out to greet the boys for a morale boost, still trying to remember why she was clinging to this stupid plan when Rita Skeeter had already foiled most of the reason for it, she was rewarded with four sets of eyes bulging out of their heads. Percy, of course, was too analytical to react. He circled Katie, doing his Jones impression again.

"Er...nice dress, Katie," Harry said awkwardly, then he averted his eyes when he saw the glare of death on Ginny's face.

"Good choice," George said, "you'll explode pure-blood brains for sure."

"Um...yeah," Oliver said, his face beet red when he looked away. Poor Oliver. He'd been getting some blow-back from the article as well, and now he was being confronted with the fact that one of his former Chasers was in possession of tits. This must be confusing for him.

"Great," Katie said, drinking more wine. She was going to snap an ankle, and she was now close to six feet tall, but oh well. Her friends insisted this and her smokey eyes and burgundy lips would make Montague go nonverbal, putty in her hands, and she supposed that was the goal.

Katie caught a flash of herself in the mirror, and she almost dropped her wine. She looked like a grown up. She looked sexy. And on top of that, she looked rich. But really, the jewels were probably to accredit for that.

"Well," she said, "guess it's time to face the music." she hiccuped slightly. Now that the time had come, she wanted to jump in the deep end of the pool and not linger over strategies, growing more terrified all the while.

"Great," Percy said, pouring a small flask into her wine. "drink up."

"What's that?" Katie asked suspiciously, but she took a sip anyway.

"Flavoring," Percy said innocently, but of course it was a sober-up potion and Katie now was back to full terror.

"Why did you do that!" she snarled, "You know what? Ange is right. I'm wiping this slap off and going to bed."

"It's barely past seven at night," Hermione said.

"Whatever," Katie said rudely, picking up the bottom of her dress, to her knees, "it's not like I've been sleeping well lately."

It was the way the boy's eyes followed her now mostly bare legs, clearly against their will, that gave her pause. Wouldn't it be delicious to get Montague under her spell? Wouldn't it be wonderful to get a little power over her life for once?

"You better not," Alicia said, "I spent hours helping you get that dress!"

Katie hesitated, and then her eyes fell on Hermione again. She was frowning at Katie like a disappointed parent. She was wearing a light jumper rolled up at the elbows. On her forearm the word _Mudblood_ was scarred in the pale flesh.

"Give me that portkey," Katie said grimly.

* * *

Everyone had assured her to arrive precisely half an hour after the start of the dinner party, so as to not be the first person there.

"It's fashionable to be late," Percy said, and since Hermione, the other person in the flat who was a walking book nodded along and Percy was a pure-blood Katie had assumed they were right. She had not factored in the fact that Hermione was Muggleborn, just like Katie, and Percy had been raised by the Weasley parents in a modest home that bucked almost every pure-blood tradition there was.

"Ah, here she is at last," a man said as Katie straightened up from her portkey, raising a hand to pat at her hair and then dropping it fast.

Katie looked up directly at Montague, whose jaw was clenched as he stood stiffly in dress robes worth more than her entire flat's building. It was strange seeing him in wizard's robes at all, she had gotten so used to seeing him in Muggle wear, but now his clothing was robes of dark blue brocade lined with purple floral satin. Katie hated it. It did match her dress well, though.

"Well let's get a good look at you," the unknown man said, and Katie turned her head, and spotted the middle-aged man that could only be Montague's father, Edgar. He was turned out even richer than his eldest son, still a good-looking man who bore a strong resemblance to Montague in features, if not in expression.

"Stand up straight, girl," Montague's father drawled, "slouching is so gauche. But of course, you haven't been taught that."

Katie felt her face burn and turned in mute appeal to Montague, who wasn't even looking at her, but instead glaring at the side of his father's head.

"Yes, I see I've won our little wager," Edgar Montague said as he strode forward, and Katie foolishly held out her hand which was ignored. It fell limply to her side as Montague the senior circled her like she was a horse he'd just bought.

"I didn't make a wager with you," Montague said stiffly. His voice sounded weird, like he was speaking through his teeth. Which of course, he probably was.

Edgar Montague was in front of Katie. She was a tall girl, even without the ridiculous heels she was currently sporting, but he still loomed over her. His eyes dropped down to the Montague family jewels, one eyebrow fractionally raised. Katie had kept her joke promise to Montague and bought an aubergine dress mad of satin, floor length and loose in the skirt but tight in the bust, cut practically to her waist. It had seemed funny at the time, to picture pure-blood reactions. It was less amusing to experience it.

Katie felt her cheeks getting redder.

"Are you done ogling my girlfriend?" Montague said loudly, "only, Mother probably won't be thrilled about you staring at-"

"Your mother said she'd have more sense and know to wear dress robes, like a proper lady," Edgar said, like Montague hadn't spoken, his eyes still traveling up and down Katie's body like she was a peculiar insect, "unfashionable ones, of course, low in quality, but I knew she'd trot in wearing something like..._this_."

Katie tried to speak, she really did, but her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth.

"You mean something that makes her look better then every woman in this entire house? I agree," Montague said, even louder, and then he'd stepped forward, grasping Katie by her bare elbow.

Edgar Montague looked amused.

"Not by your mother's definition," he said mildly, "But I suppose by certain standards, yes."

Katie couldn't take her eyes away from Edgar Montague, her throat constricted, tongue still glued to the roof of her mouth. She could see the portkey had deposited her in some decadent parlor like room full of books, a roaring fire, and crystal vases but she was mesmerized by Montague's horrible, Lucius Malfoy like father who was not even looking at her with disapproval. That would be expected. He was looking at Katie like she wasn't even _human._

"Meaning?" Montague said, and Katie felt his arm snake around her waist. The jewels sat on her chest absurdly, cold and heavy and she wanted nothing more than to rip them off and transfigure her clothes into a Harpies sweatshirt and a pair of jeans before fleeing.

"I understand, boy," Mr. Montague said, his eyes lingering on the amethyst jewels again, "did you think I wouldn't? I told your mother the same. Of course, you'd want to play with a tropical little bird like this before you settle down with some dull sparrow your mother has chosen for you. Did you think I didn't do the same, as a young man?"

Montague made a sound like vomit was choking his airway. Now it seemed his ability to talk had fled with the reminder that his parents had sex.

"I'm a human being," Katie said stupidly, her tongue finally moving, "not a bird." It wasn't her finest retort. What was wrong with her? But it seemed to rally Montague.

"Yes, your manners are abominable," he said to his father, "you promised you wouldn't-" he paused.

"Wouldn't what?" Katie said, looking between them.

Edgar Montague's right patrician eyebrow was still raised the tiniest bit, but Montague had fallen silent again.

"Well, you're a lovely girl," Mr. Montague said, "my son at least has working eyes. I can say _that_, at the very least."

He raised his hand again and Katie instinctually moved to shake it again, even though she'd much rather use her hand to close into a fist and drive it into Mr. Montague's smug face. At the very last second Edgar Montague's jaw clenched and his hand dropped to his side, his will to touch the Mudblood clearly leaving him, Katie's hand hanging again absurdly. She left it in the air, stubbornly.

"Father," Montague hissed.

Edgar Montague raised his hand again and took Katie's hand swiftly, bring it to his mouth for the most fleeting of kisses. He dropped her as fast as possible.

"That is how it's done in the finer circles, Miss...Bell," he said, "not...whatever you were attempting."

Katie's mouth fell slightly open against her will. She knew tonight was going to be torture. But she hadn't figured she'd have to enter a portal to 1892 and a world where _handshakes _were tacky.

"Noted," she said finally, but if the Montague's thought she was willingly letting all of the gross pure-blood scions sure to be at this party kiss her hand she was going to deliver that punch instead.

Montague's arms tightened around her again as he steered her out of the parlor and into a hallway of marble and rich rugs, crystal chandeliers and magical portraits that all stared at Katie down their noses, waiting until she walked past before they did something so common as dart into each other's frames to whisper about her to each other.

"You're late," Edgar Montague said as they walked down the austere hallway that both filled Katie's expectations down to the last detail of marble busts and silver candelabras and yet was thrice as terrifying as she expected it to be. "That won't please my wife. But to be frank, Miss...Bell, there was nothing you could've done to make my wife happy with you. I'm afraid I'm your only ally in the manor tonight."

Katie turned to Montague in disbelief. He didn't meet her eyes, but his jaw was clenched tighter than his father's.

Something about his cowardice riled her up, and Katie felt a fire rising in her. She'd promised Percy and the others that she'd be a dutiful girl to win over Montague's family. If she won over his family as well, he'd be even less likely to slingshot her knickers at her mid game in front of Rita Skeeter when she finally ended this farce. Katie straightened, throwing off Montague's arm with such force that she wobbled a bit in her ridiculous heels. Alicia had picked them out. They were black, pointy, and high of heel and had velvet ribbon wrapped many times around the ankles to tie in a little bow. Why she had to wear such torture devices when no one could even see her feet…Montague reached for her when he saw her wobble, and she swatted him away.

"And with a friend like you, who needs enemies?" Katie said sweetly to Edgar Montague's back as he led them to a set of heavy mahogany doors inlaid with silver tooling.

Edgar Montague turned to her, now both of his stupid eyebrows raised, and Katie stared at him like he was a Quidditch opponent. Unexpectedly, he laughed.

"A swan," he said to her after his little rich man laugh was done, "that's what you are. Beautiful and prone to attack. Well, that sounds like my son's taste."

He shot Montague a look of disappointment, and Katie felt him sink further next to her. What a spineless little shit he was. All that big talk of his, and he wilted before his father like Dolores Umbridge in front of Firenze.

Katie felt the fire burning in her as she threw back her shoulders and walked inside the doors Edgar Montague gestured her through with a little smile. She didn't miss the way his eyes had lingered on her arse, but filed it away later for a barb to throw at Montague. It was the fire she associated with battle. The Montague's didn't know what they were in for.

It was good her courage had returned, because inside the room was a group of richly dressed witches and wizards in robes of the finest order, sitting around a dinner table laden with silver plates, glasses of wine in hand. Pucey wasn't there, which was surprisingly upsetting. At least she knew he could be civil to her now. It was clear that Katie was so late for the dinner that the evening was going to be a disaster. Why they hadn't started just eating without her was beyond her, but perhaps it was a way to humiliate her, or perhaps it was a weird pure blood etiquette she'd never understand.

"You're late," a woman said from one side of the table, but she was far too old to be Montague's mother.

"Dreadfully late," a younger girl echoed, nodding her head.

"Your attire is frightfully inappropriate," a third woman sniffed.

Montague made an angry noise behind her but didn't come to her defense at all.

"Do you think so?" Katie said, gasping, "oh, how embarrassing. I _was _worried about being overdressed."

A madness had overtaken her, and she pulled her wand out of a hidden pocket and murmured a spell, and the skirt of her dress shrunk to well above her knee, tightening, her absurd shoes fully visible.

Montague choked, but Katie sauntered to the table of disapproving faces and sat down in one of the empty chairs between two younger men.

"Better?" she said sweetly to the woman across from her who'd told her how inappropriate her dress had been.

She grabbed her glass of wine and drank deeply. Might as well go full hog and show them all she was just as tacky and uncouth as they all thought.

"I'd say so," the man on her left said, "but then, what would I know, right Aunt Celia?" he directed that last viciously at the older woman who has fanning herself at the expanse of leg Katie was currently flashing. She could only imagine how the women would have reacted if Katie had large breasts. As it was, she was mostly exposing clavicle.

"Frankie Montague," he said to Katie as the table continued to stare at Katie like she was a rampaging Blast-Ended Skrewt. Ah. That explained it. He was the one who was dating an American half-blood, if she recalled correctly.

Katie held out her hand. At least this Montague wasn't going to be so bad. She had been counting on Montague's brothers being her friends at least. They shook hands and Auntie Celia sniffed again.

"Move over, Frankie," Montague said from behind them, his hand briefly resting on Katie's shoulder. She fought the urge to shake him off. Of all the things Montague had done to disgust her, his lily-livered behavior in front of his family had topped them all.

"No," his brother said rudely, as Katie watched them over her wine glass. On her right had to be Christopher, based on the resemblance. On Frankie's left was another sneering man. Interesting. The American half-blood girlfriend was missing, "I want to get to know your saucy little girlfriend."

"Graham," a woman with a tower of hair and jewels said from the head of the table, her dress robes cream and gold, "come sit next to me."

"Yes mother," Montague said stiffly, squeezing Katie's shoulder once before her departed.

Katie took another sip of wine as everyone stared at her and she stared at Montague's infamous mother. She was one of those rich women who looked as if she spent every second of her spare time preserving her beauty against aging, and it was working. Katie just imagined her own mother, a nurse with short, no nonsense hair whose ankles often swelled after a shift meeting Mrs. Montague, Isla Bell dressed in scrubs while Mrs. Montague had literal diamonds perched in her shiny dark hair.

"Now that everyone is here," Mrs. Montague said, her eyes boring into Katie, the "finally" silent but apparent to all, "it's time for our first course." she clapped her hands and everyone's bowl filled with a creamy soup that smelled of lobster. Katie thought suddenly of Hermione Granger and S.P.E.W. and Sassy telling her she wouldn't see her because a good elf wasn't seen at a party and her fake smile dropped.

"What's the matter?" Frankie asked on her left as polite chatter resumed at last around the group, "you don't have an allergy to shellfish, do you?"

"No," Katie said, surprised, "and if I did, why would that-"

"Oh, well I know Muggles have loads of allergies," Frankie said, "So I thought maybe-"

"I'm not a Muggle," Katie said, "didn't you just see me use a wand?"

"How could I miss it?" Frankie said slyly, and his eyes darted for a moment to her legs as well, "It's just, Muggle gee-ings-"

"Don't you work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts?" Katie demanded "shouldn't you know better? And it's genes. _Genes_." Well. There went her one hope of an ally. He might be dating someone as unacceptable as Katie herself, he might be working for Arthur Weasley, but he was still an idiot pure-blood who leered at her.

Frankie, oddly, looked hurt.

"I got an O in Muggle Studies," he said stiffly, "but of course, you can't learn everything about Muggles from one course in school. Especially after Professor Burbage was murdered."

There was a hush at the table. Katie hadn't realized, but of course most everyone had been straining genteelly to hear her conversation with Frankie, most likely hoping it was offensive and they could make jokes about her later to each other.

"She was a good Professor," the previously silent man she suspected was Christopher on Katie's right agreed. She didn't miss that he was the only other person downing their wine with the speed she was.

"Oh yes, it was an easy class to get O's in," a twenty-something year old wizard from nearby said with an affected titter, "that's why you took it right, cousins? Bring up the grade average?"

"Yes of course," Aunt Celia said swiftly, "the perfect reason to take such a class."

"Graham never had to take this class to bring up his grades," Mrs. Montague said coldly. She still, Katie noticed, had not deigned to introduce herself or welcome Katie to her home.

Katie was sure, quite sure that there was some pure-blood code being thrown around that she didn't quite understand but was surely meant to offend someone in the room, most likely her.

"I heard Professor Burbage was a great teacher," Katie said to Frankie, "not that I knew personally of course. Since I didn't need to take Muggle Studies."

She looked directly at Montague, who was staring down at his hands and the stupid crested ring. Coward. What on Earth had happened to his assertion that bringing Katie to a pure-blood event would be sure to amuse him beyond belief? Was that, like everything else with Montague, a total lie?

"This is really not a topic of conversation for a dinner party," Mrs. Montague said, "Celia, did you say Narcissa has announced Draco's-"

"Yes, by all means let's not talk about my favorite teacher being murdered at Narcissa's house," Frankie said loudly, "while _Draco _watched."

"It is your mother's birthday," Edgar Montague said, his voice cracking like a whip, and Frankie sullenly muttered an apology, also picking up his wine glass, and everyone was forced to endure a twenty minute discussion on Draco Malfoy's engagement announcement while Montague kept avoiding looking at Katie and his brothers kept silent and got drunk right along with her.

"This is all for your benefit, you know," Christopher muttered after another hour of decadent food and talk of varied engagements droned on.

"Why?" Katie muttered back, as Aunt Celia strained to overhear them and Frankie covered by banging his utensils more than necessary, "is your mother hinting I should propose to Mon – Graham after dinner? I'm afraid this dress isn't made for kneeling."

Frankie choked on her left.

"You should leave," Christopher said, unsmiling, "make some excuse and go. Trust me. I'm doing you a favor."

Katie looked over at Montague. His mother was talking to him, but he was staring at Katie talking to his younger brothers, white faced.

"But your brother is enjoying me being here so much," Katie said. She was getting a perverse, vindictive sort of enjoyment out of Montague's suffering. She certainly wasn't staying for any other reason. The food was excellent, of course, but she'd been sitting in silence for near an hour while the men around the table gave her covert glances. Or at least, her cleavage and legs. The woman were acting like she didn't exist, except the formidable Aunt Celia, who was sniffing with deepest disapproval from time to time, shaking her head and smelling a handkerchief like Katie was causing her to faint.

"My brother's right," Frankie said, "you don't belong here. Just go home and tell Graham you never want to see him again."

Katie opened her mouth to say "done" but then a pair of women nearby started loudly discussing the scandalous attire of young witches nowadays and the young girl on Christopher's right simultaneously said how out of fashion all shades of purple were.

"What if I don't want to?" Katie said instead.

Gryffindor's came in all sorts of shapes and types. You'd get your Neville Longbottom's, who were brave beyond belief when they really needed to be, the Hermione's who were practically Ravenclaw's with a streak of sheer nerve, and your classics, the Ron Weasley's, the loyal friends who ran into battle without a second thought. But one thing all Gryffindor's secretly had in common was stubbornness. Katie hadn't met a single one who didn't share that trait. She'd even joked with Ange one year that the hat should add a line about the pig head foolish stubbornness of Godric Gryffindor and his students. She had wanted nothing more than to leave minutes before. But if these bigots wanted her to leave, then by god now she wanted to stay. Aunt Celia and the girl on the right were listening to every word.

"You don't fit in," Christopher said, like she hadn't understood, "I'm sure you're very...nice and all, and we all value your bravery, but-"

"Oh, do you?" Katie said, "do you want to thank me for my bravery, while everyone else in this room was...what? Fighting in masks? Running away through a tunnel?"

Christopher and Frankie had surely been at Hogwarts, younger Slytherins who'd fled instead of fighting. "Giving money to the cause, at least, I assume. It doesn't matter how much money you all spend on stupid wards named after Snape or statues or scholarships for Muggleborns, the rest of us know what you did and didn't do. You should thank me," she turned to Frankie, "I killed one of the men who was in that room with Professor Burbage when she got eaten by Nagini, you know. Selwyn. me and George Weasley, we killed him together. You should really be thanking me, if you actually cared about her."

Too late, Katie realized the room was pin drop silent. Mr. Montague had that stupid eyebrow raised again. Aunt Celia had slumped dramatically to the floor. An elderly witch was fanning herself. The wizards around the table were angry. Beyond angry. Mrs. Montague's face was still and cold, but her eyes glittered with rage.

"Geoffrey Selwyn, he was an especial friend of yours, wasn't he, Uncle Henry?" Montague said loudly into the loaded silence.

"Of course not," Uncle Henry said stiffly, "I am not a Death Eater sympathizer. My war record is spotless."

"Spotless?" Montague said, "really? As spotless as hers? Bell, did you see my Uncle fighting with you against-"

"Enough," Mrs. Montague said. Her voice wasn't raised, but it cut through the din like a blade, "Graham, if you can't behave yourself you will escort your...friend out of my home at once."

Katie gripped her wand in her dress as half the room glared at her for ruining the evening. She was outnumbered twenty to one. Ten to one, if Montague stirred himself to help her more. At least he was finally showing signs of life.

"We haven't even had dessert," Montague said belligerently, "I had the house elves make a special chocolate cake."

Mrs. Montague's eyes softened. "How thoughtful," she said.

"Your mother doesn't like chocolate," Edgar Montague said, the second stupid eyebrow raising.

"Oh, I know," Montague said, "it wasn't for her. It's Bell's favorite."

Frankie choked again, but Katie laughed.

Mrs. Montague went as white as a Death Eater mask.

"Get out," Edgar Montague said, "right now."

"Gladly, I'm bored to tears," Montague said shortly, getting to his feet and making his way over to Katie in record time. "Ready to go somewhere that's actually fun?" he asked her.

"Past ready," Katie said, standing, watching with sick satisfaction when every man but Christopher eyed her body again when she stood. Filthy fucking hypocrites.

"Take that _creature _out of my house," Mrs. Montague said, her voice wavering, "and then return. It's my birthday. I want my son here," she said the last to her husband, who was watching Montague with cold eyes.

"Don't think I will," Montague said lightly, putting his arm around Katie's waist again, "I've got better things to do. Namely, anything else."

"Get out," Edgar Montague said, finally raising his voice, "and you better return tomorrow with an apology so convincing I don't disinherit you." He was red in the face. "And get my grandmother's jewels off of your whore."

They had almost reached the door when that last was said, and Katie felt herself flush at that last, she couldn't help it.

"I don't see any whores here," Montague said, "So I'm afraid I don't know who you mean. Unless you mean Carlotta? I know she's serviced quite a few-"

The young girl to Christopher's right screamed wordlessly and threw a plate of roasted chicken at Montague, who dragged Katie out through the door, the platter missing them by a solid three feet.

There was shouting behind them, but Montague was half dragging Katie out of the mansion of horrors as the portraits whispered and gawked at them. The woman on the end was clapping wildly, however.

"Thanks, Nan," Montague said quietly as they passed.

"I'll leave the jewels," Katie said stupidly. She could think of nothing else to say. Her ears were ringing. She thought she'd been prepared. She hadn't been.

"You will not," the portrait said, "I love my jewels on you. What a lovely girl."

"Oh," Katie said, "thanks." They hustled out of the hallway back through the parlor, as the shouts increased in volume, into a glittering side room full of golden leather books and statues.

"There's a fireplace here," Montague muttered, searching for some floo powder, "it's here somewhere, I swear-"

"Listen, did you just get disowned?" Katie blurted.

"I don't know, maybe," Montague said, his hand groping, "let's just get-"

Katie grabbed him by his robe collar and pulled him around, dragging his face down to hers, planting her mouth firmly on his, and in the most awkward of circumstances, they were snogging again, Katie pushed up against the wall next to the fireplace, tongues sliding together, her arms around his neck, Montague's around her waist.

Montague had acted like a complete coward at first, but he'd found his courage at last, and if she was being honest with herself, courage had always been Katie's biggest turn-on.

Montague groaned into her mouth as they kissed heavily, pressing her tightly against the wall, his mouth latching onto her neck again, and then somehow they were both on a spindly couch with golden brocade fabric and golden legs and accents, Katie's right leg hitched up around Montague, his hand on her bare leg as they kissed eagerly, a warming sensation traveling directly between her legs.

Someone's throat cleared.

"Ahem," Frankie said.

"Fucking hell, go away," Montague groaned, pulling his mouth away from Katie to rest on her chest and the jewels.

"Not that I blame you for groping a pair of legs like that, big brother, but if you actually fuck your little act of rebellion on mother's favorite couch while she's wearing father's favorite grandmother's jewels you might actually get disowned this time."

Montague sat up, pulling Katie with him until she was in his lap, rubbing his eyes.

"Not likely," he snorted, "I haven't been the first hundred times. It's all air, we both know that. If I'm disowned, then it will be you. And you'll get disowned for talking about your favorite professor, and Christopher will be the heir, and never make heirs of his own because oh yes, he's dating a man. Speaking of _your _act of rebellion, where's Isadore?"

Katie pulled down her skirt. Her hair had come half undone. A piece was sticking to her cheek. Montague's right arm was around her waist again, the left hand and it's stupid ring resting on the outside of her left thigh.

"Guess," Frankie said. He was still holding a glass of wine. The shouting could be heard in the background again.

"I'm surprised I was allowed to invite Bell if you weren't allowed-"

"You're the favorite," Frankie snapped, "You know you're the favorite. That's why you get away with everything. Even-" he started to gesture at Katie, his eyes angrily raking over her.

"Careful," Montague said, "I don't think I like where you were going with that."

"Whatever," Frankie snorted, "just get out of here. I'll tell mother your..._friend_ spiked your drink with a babbling potion and you can come back tomorrow with some weak apology and some flowers and you'll be fine."

"No, I don't think so," Montague said casually, "I think we'll stay."

"What?" Katie and Frankie said together.

"Well, I can't trust you to tell anyone the truth," Montague said, "so I'll have to say it myself."

Katie laughed nervously. She had enjoyed it at the time, but her blood had been pounding from rage, and then she'd felt the sweet relief of escape. She had no desire to have Montague's family catch her sitting in his lap in her now extremely revealing dress, still wearing the jewels she'd been ordered to take off by the family patriarch.

"You'll thank me later," Frankie said, taking another drink of wine, "Uncle Henry was about to curse her or fuck her, I don't think even he knew which one. And if you keep pushing, maybe you'll actually get disowned."  
"Oh no," Montague said in a deadpan voice, "what a horrible shame. And if Uncle Henry tries either, I'll break his wand and the hand it came in."

That shouldn't have made Katie squirm on the inside, but it did, god help her.

The screaming was louder. Closer.

"Let's go, Montague," Katie said, "we could have way more fun somewhere else."

She had meant they could literally do anything, even watch paint dry and have more fun but Montague's eyebrows flew up, and Frankie's eyebrows flew up, and the hand on Katie's legs squeezed and that was unacceptable.

"I'm having fun here," Montague said.

"Do you two really call each other by your last names like you're in school still?" Frankie said, but they both ignored him.

"You can't possibly be having fun," Katie said, and she reached up to tug at the jewels. She felt suddenly constricted.

"Ahh, _au countraire_, this is the best time I've had at a pureblood gathering in... I don't even know when. Ever, maybe?"

"Really?" Frankie said, "Even more then the time I caught you in a wardrobe with-"  
"Yes," Montague snapped at his brother.

"With who?" Katie asked sweetly, tugging at her necklace again, drawing both brother's eyes to her expanse of chest again. Thank god she didn't have Ange's tits. It wasn't a thought she had often.

"No one," Montague said swiftly, "My brother is joking."

He clearly thought she'd be upset at the implication that he'd been frolicking with other girls but on the contrary, Katie was relieved and grateful for the reminder that she shouldn't think anything positive about Montague.

"Yeah, right," Frankie said, "so I imagined that pair of tits I saw, or your bare-"

"Leave those on, Bell, what are you doing?" Montague said, his neck red, "You saw how great grandmum liked them on you. They belonged to her, so she should get final say."

"His bare what?" Katie said, arching an eyebrow. She didn't care. There had been no way Montague was a virgin, no matter what she taunted him with. Even if he'd been hideous, he was rich and a pure-blood. And he'd grown handsome at some point, damn him. He'd proven it to her in his bed. There was no way a virgin would perform that successfully.

"Never mind," Montague said hastily, patting her leg, "maybe we should leave."

His Aunt Celia chose the perfect moment to barge into the room, a teenage boy behind her that must be her son, based on the identical pointy nose, and screamed at the top of her lungs upon spotting Katie perched on Montague's lap.

The scream drew more witnesses to Katie's loss of dignity. She might as well be topless from the way the men were looking at her. Celia swooned to the floor again, still wailing. Montague's lips went to Katie's ear as she stared, wide eyed at the scene in front of her.

"Now's the time to entertain me some more, Bell," he whispered, "what do you prefer? I can stick my hand up your dress or you can say something scandalous. Or my preference, both at the same time."

Katie had one horrifying moment where she thought of Montague touching her between her legs right now, in front of everyone, and she actually felt a throbbing sensation when she thought it, and she blurted out an insult to Aunt Celia in a panic.

"You're screaming like you just saw the reanimated corpse of Voldemort."

Celia shrieked one last time and laid all the way down in a dead faint. Montague burst out laughing, and buried his head into her neck, kissing her briefly.

God help her, she wanted him to keep kissing her neck, and then down her shoulder, and push down her dress straps, and down her stomach, and down down down to where his mouth had spent a surprising amount of time a month before and that for no other reason got Katie lunging to her feet, terror stricken at what she'd become, tottering on her heels, as Aunt Celia's son actually licked his lips at her and Frankie caught a flash of her knickers and his jaw dropped. With her Quidditch reflexes, Katie righted herself as Montague reached to help her, her other hand flinging the jewels up and over her head. They hit the couch with a clank.

"Hey, I said to keep-"

The Montague parents had arrived, and Katie knew desperate measures were necessary. If she stayed, she might get attacked by a crowd of pure-bloods. If she left with Montague, the odds were alarmingly high she was going to end up naked. She lunged to the fireplace, threw a handful of floo powder, and yelled out the address for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"Bell, where are you-"

Katie dove in, spun in the fireplace, and fell out the other end onto the floor, ashes smudged on her cheek.

Verity was writing in the shop's ledger, the bright magenta robes matching a new streak in her blonde hair. She shrieked as Katie fell out of the fireplace and made her way to her feet, legs shaking, her right boob almost out all the way.

"Katie?" Verity said, standing, "is that you?"

"Good to see you Verity, got to go!" Katie said, trying to run in the heels. What if Montague followed her?

"Katie, what are you-"

"If anyone comes after me tell them I died in a tragic floo accident," Katie shouted, and ran.

* * *

**Author Note:** I have a feeling Katie might anger some of you this chapter lol. Hopefully I made it clear she's confused and doesn't believe Montague is genuine...for good reason. I kind of consider this chapter the bizarro world version of chapter 14 of "Mudbloods of the Death Eaters."

Thanks so much for all of your support, it really means a lot!


	10. Marcus Flint Breaks a Leg

**Chapter Ten: Marcus Flint Breaks a Leg**

"So, you thought you could escape that easily, eh?" George said, one ginger eyebrow cocked.

In one hand, Katie had a large bowl of ice cream covered in hot fudge, whipped cream, sprinkles, and candy pieces. In the other, a spoon the size of a Hagrid utensil to shovel it into her mouth faster.

She was sitting on the couch in their flat in her baggiest, most faded Harpies sweatpants, the extra comfy ones she couldn't bear to part with even though they sported a hole by the right ankle. Her jumper was three sizes too big, lime green and embroidered with the lemon-yellow claw of the harpies. Last Christmas she'd finally earned a status that few ascended to but many coveted: Weasley Christmas jumper status. Ginny had been indignant the first time she'd seen Katie wearing it.

"Ron's right," Ginny had said, "apparently you get a much nicer one if you're not related to mum. And she doesn't give you one that clashes with your hair." Ginny had picked moodily at her bright pink jumper that was unadorned. Just what Katie had done to finally ascend to the level of tier one Wesley clan she wasn't sure. She wasn't dating one of the spawn like Hermione and Harry and Ange, but she supposed she was friends with quite a few of them, and now teammates with Ginny. It was her most prized jumper.

In front of them, her purple eyes huge and moist, enormous jeweled ears down-turned, was Sassy.

"Miss Katie left so soon," she said mournfully, "Master Graham was most devastated."

George snorted.

"I'm sure he's fine, Sassy," Katie said, digging her spoon in determinedly. She'd only arrived five minutes earlier, tottering like she'd broken an ankle, hair disheveled, lipstick smeared just a bit, dress multiple feet shorter than it had been when she'd left, wild eyed and paranoid as she kept glancing over her shoulder. Once she made it inside her flat, there was no way Montague could get in without her leave. The benefits of being close friends with multiple Ministry employees. But the journey from the Weasley's shop to the flat…

* * *

"What did he do to you!" Ange shrieked, lunging to her feet, wand out. There were all still there. Katie would feel more warm and fuzzy about that fact if her friends hadn't been chugging down beers and glasses of wine, Hermione sipping daintily from an enormous margarita with a tiny umbrella in it. They were playing loud games and cheering or booing when Oliver won a point, depending on their affiliation, and pounding down pizza. It seemed her torment with Montague and their insistence on supporting her in her quest to take him down had become a party behind her back. Katie tried not to be jealous, and almost succeeded.

"I'll kill him!" Ron said, leaping to his feet.

"No, you hold him down and_ I'll_ kill him," George said, also leaping to his feet.

"I want a turn punching him," Oliver said.

"I'll stab him with a stiletto," Alicia insisted.

"No one is stabbing anyone," Katie said, tottering in. She supposed it did look suspicious. She had the dirt streak, and half her dress was gone, so were her borrowed jewels, her hair and makeup was messed up, and she assumed her facial expression was particularly crazed at the moment, "nothing happened."

"Like hell," Ginny said, punching a fist into her palm, "you look like Montague has mauled you in a dark alleyway."

"Well, not in a dark alleyway…" Katie said thoughtlessly, reaching down to untie the blasted shoes Alicia had lent her. The clunking sounds of her heels falling to the rug were the only sounds, and she looked up and saw the look on everyone's faces.

"I'm joking," she lied, "I got the dirt from a floo journey, I cut the dress myself to scandalize the uptight pure-bloods there, I threw the jewels off and left them. Nothing's wrong."

She yanked some of the remaining pins from her hair with force, made to remove a strap of her dress before Ron gave a noise like a goose being stepped on, and came to her senses, booking it to her room, and the sweet, sweet release of sweatpants that made her into a fluffy lump.

"So, what happened to your hair and makeup, then?" Hermione said from her doorway, arms crossed.

The girls crowded behind her, their expression so different Katie had to laugh. Alicia was practically dancing with glee. Angelina was an angry grandmum. Ginny still looked ready to shove her broom up Montague's arse. And Hermione…Hermione looked like she had a plan. As long as that plan didn't involve badges for an organization called M.O.M, aka Murder off Montague, Katie was perhaps intrigued in what that big diabolical brain could do.

"I snogged him," Katie admitted, "happy?" As Alicia was giggling and dancing in place, Ginny was fondling her wand and chewing on her own cheeks, and Ange was shaking her head with her eyes closed, it was a useless question.

"And?" Hermione prompted when it became clear Katie was unwilling to talk as she pulled on her precious jumper.

"And I've got ice cream!" Harry said from behind the girls, the giant bowl of frozen heart attack in his hand. "I think you might need some."

"You think right," Katie said gratefully, accepting her bounty and making her way back to the sitting room. Well, she supposed she could provide more entertainment for her friends. It was what she had become best at.

And even though the loud crack that heralded the arrival of Sassy caused half the room, including Oliver, to scream, Katie hadn't even flinched. She was just surprised it had taken so long.

"Sassy is sure you is wrong," the elf said gravely, "Master Graham is most upset. Sassy is here to help!"

Katie closed her eyes even as she continued to eat ice cream. Maybe, if she couldn't see the elf and the tell-tale velvet box in her hand, she'd wake up and George would be laughing at her for the exceptionally long and vivid dream she'd had from their new line of products: romantic daydreams of your disgusting pig enemies. Of course, for that to be true, that line of potions would have to exist. Her eyes opened again, and the box was open to expose the amethyst jewels.  
"Master Graham said you left these," Sassy squeaked.

"Tell Master Graham they belong to his parents, and I don't want them," Katie said shortly. Hermione glowered at her. "I mean, err...if you don't mind Sassy. Please." She took up the Hagrid sized spoon again, putting a giant glob of ice cream to her mouth. Maybe brain freeze would be helpful right around now. Anything to help her forget being ogled by Montague's various male relatives, including his own father. Anything to forget the snogging in his lap. Katie shuddered.

Sassy's purple eyes watered.

"Miss is so kind!" she squeaked, "Sassy knew Miss must be special, for Master Graham to love you so much!"

Katie spat out the ice cream, as Alicia burst into a triumphant dance and cackle once more.

"That's my favorite pillow, Katie!" Angelina whined, picking up the ice cream splattered battered pink velvet cushion.

"Yeah, good thing we can't do magic or anything to clean it," George teased, "say, Sassy, what's this about Master Graham loving Katie so much?"

"Leave her alone, George," Hermione snapped, then softened her tone remarkably, "Sassy, have you ever heard of an organization called—"

"Not now, Hermione!" Ron said hastily, stepping in front of his girlfriend like he could block the word S.P.E.W. from coming out of her mouth with his physical body.

"Master Graham loves Miss Katie so very, very much!" Sassy squeaked, "much more than Sassy was knowing is possible, for humans!"

Katie's eyes bugged out of her head. From what she could see of her mates, she wasn't the only one gone pop eyed. Then she remembered Edgar and Helena Montague, and their no doubt frigid marriage, where the Montague patriarch had probably never stopped cheating on her with a series of young witches and then she understood why Sassy was so impressed with her twisted relationship with Montague.

"So, about as much as he loves his broomstick?" George said sarcastically.

"Even more!" Sassy said, her giant eyes growing wider, "Sassy was surprised by that too, but even more then Master's broom!"

Alicia sniggered, mid triumphant dance move, and Katie knew she was thinking of Master's other broom, which Katie had still steadfastly refused to describe to her, despite her pleading.

"I thought Master couldn't fly anymore?" Katie said carefully.

"Oh, Master can still fly," Sassy assured her, "Master loves to fly! But not as much as he loves Miss Katie," she held out the jewels to Katie again. George, damn him, was looking at her with sympathy, and Katie knew why. Having the lies of Montague smacking you in the face while his house elf insisted on his deep devotion was painful.

"I don't think your other Master and Mistress want me to have that, Sassy," Katie said carefully. She could see that Hermione had pulled out a badge and was fingering it, while Ron was casually blocking her from Sassy's eye-view still.

"Oh, but they belong to Master Graham!" Sassy squeaked, "Mistress Eldreda left them to him in her will!" Sassy placed the jewels on top of Katie's sweat panted lap, beaming. "They looked so pretty on Miss! Sassy thought you was most elegant at dinner, Miss Katie!"

"I didn't see you there, Sassy," Katie said, putting down her ice cream with regret and picking up the jewels like a moth of a flame.

"Sassy told Miss! You won't see a good house elf, Miss!"

Behind Sassy, Hermione opened her mouth, her eyes a little crazed, and Ron picked up a stray leftover piece of pizza and shoved it into her mouth.

"Well, it would've been nice to see a friendly face," Katie sighed, "at least one."

"Sassy will say hello to you next time you visit, if Miss wishes," Sassy said solemnly, "even though this is bad for most elves to do, if Miss wants that it's a more important order for Sassy to follow!"

Around the pizza, Hermione choked with outrage.

"No, no, that wasn't an order," Katie said hastily, "I don't want to give you orders, Sassy! I just enjoy your company, is all." Sassy's eyes watered more.

"Miss is too kind!" Sassy squeaked, "Sassy is most excited about making your cake for your wedding!"

Katie, who had unfortunately taken another tentative bite of ice cream, blew again.

"For god's sake, Katie!" Angelina said, yanking the pillow away from her.

"Sassy would be liking to make the gown too, but Master Graham said it has to be from Paris, a Madam Barrere original! Sassy can make just as nice of a gown, but Master Graham said you must have the best!"

Katie felt that her mouth was hanging open like she was as gormless as Gregory Goyle. She turned to look at her friends, who looked just as gormless, except for Hermione, who was rage eating her slice of pizza, and Percy, who had his chin in his hand, his brilliant mind clearly whirring.

"Anyway, Miss Katie, Sassy must be going now, or else Master Edgar will have Sassy shove her hands under the carriage wheels again for not cleaning up fast enough!"

Sassy gave a little bow, the jewels twinkling in Katie's lap.

"No, wait— " Katie stared to say, trying to hand them back.

Hermione frantically wrenched her jaws open.

"Sassy, you don't have to be a slave!" she said desperately, but there was a loud crack, and the house elf was gone.

Katie looked down at her lap again as Hermione started berating Ron for blocking her from recruiting to S.P.E.W. Underneath the jewels on top of the bed of violet velvet they usually lied upon, was a piece of parchment. Katie groaned, and opened it. She had contemplated eating it again to destroy the evidence, but she had a feeling Ange would tackle her and George would pry it out of her mouth. She read it, frowning.

"Well, what's it say?" Ginny asked, then turned to Ron and Hermione, who were sniping at each other still, "oh give it a rest, you two! Honestly."

Over the fireplace, Alicia was twirling around in a circle.

"I think Sassy has vastly overstated Montague's love for me," Katie said. She handed the note over.

Ginny shook it out, frowned, and then read it aloud.

_Bell,_

_Shame you had to run off like that, though I'll give you your retreat was the fourth most entertaining thing that's happened to me at a pure-blood function in a solid year. Numbers one to three belong to you as well, don't worry. Can you guess my most entertaining moment from tonight? I suppose you can, since you ran off like a coward after it because you knew you wanted to come with me back to my flat. Not very Gryffindor of you. Now that I've tormented you with the fresh hell of a pure-blood social, I suppose I owe you one. When is the next Gryffindor play date of horrors? I'll come along and brighten up your night with my gorgeous presence. Hope you like the jewels, they looked better on your tits then they ever looked on any Montague woman._

_-G.M._

"Better on your _tits_?" Angelina said, gagging.

"When's the next get together?" Percy asked with a frown, "I know you've all got a DA reunion soon, and we've all got a battle reunion in June, but—"

"Alicia's birthday is in two weeks," Ginny said, "maybe we could invite him to—"

The triumphant dancing stopped.

"Over my dead body!" Alicia shrieked.

* * *

Katie had no way of knowing if Montague had kept his word and her name out of his mouth to his little mates, but either way the cat was officially out of the bag, to the wizarding world's high society. As it much as it pained her to admit it, it was probable that Montague wasn't the culprit. After all, he'd kept their dirty little secret for weeks. It wasn't his fault that Pucey had come upon them in London, or that Rita Skeeter had caught them talking after her game. But the odds were that one of Montague's terrible relatives had opened their big mouths and flapped about his new girlfriend to their friends, perhaps an enemy of his mother, who wanted to triumphantly proclaim that the Montague heir had sunk so low as to hitch his wagon to a Mudblood. And not just any Mudblood, but a Gryffindor one who was a known friend of Harry Potter. A Mudblood who did something as low as play professional Quidditch and have the audacity to be in her twenties and unmarried. Either way, Katie was finally paying for her sins.

"Bell!" Flint shouted as they knocked into each other midair as Katie clutched the Quaffle, "got to say, those legs would look a lot better wrapped around me then that scrawny bastard Montague."

Katie grit her teeth, attempting a dive to get away as the Falcons crowd screamed with excitement, but Flint, the bastard, kept pace. Flint had always been the most talented of the Slytherin players, as loathe as Katie was to admit it. He'd been the only one to make a professional Quidditch team. OR perhaps only Flint was tacky enough to play professional Quidditch instead of lounging aground in a bed of young witches and bottles of the most expensive firewhiskey. Hopefully not, because that would make her gain an ounce of respect for Flint, and that was unacceptable.

Katie switched the Quaffle to her left arm as they crashed together again, trying to steer her broom up sharply. Her weight was an advantage when making quick moves, and Flint's weight was an advantage in every other situation. She had to get away from him. For many reasons.

Eito Nakamura, the highest scorer on the Falcons, flew in from her left, and Katie banked upwards.

"I said," Flint attempted, "those legs would-"

"You're so fucking predictable, Flint," Katie seethed, not able to hold back anymore, "I knew you were going to say that to me. I had twelve galleons on it with Alicia." Flint kept up with her as they banked upwards. A Bludger rocketed to them and they both ducked in unison.

"You should see me naked," Flint said to her, grinning with his terrible teeth, "you'll be a lot more impressed then what you've got with Montague. I promise."

"Spend a lot of time eyeing Montague in the locker room, Flint?" Katie volleyed.

She assumed Flint had been making a penis euphemism, but it was possible he was just referring to his muscle mass. It was true Flint was well known for having an absurd amount of abs. Jones had hung up a ridiculous life size poster of Flint in the Harpies locker-room. The Falcons had decided the witches were clamoring to buy a calendar of their all male players mostly naked, but they had thought wrong. Jones had received three as gag gifts, and blown up every month's photo to poster sized, hanging them around the room for dart practice. Flint, who had posed with a Quaffle strategically over his little broomstick, was currently pin cushioned with the most darts of all the Falcon players, but alas, it had made Katie far too familiar with his body. She hadn't even known a human could have that many ab muscles.

Flint grinned, knocking into her again. She could feel his giant leg muscles flexing under his uniform as he tried to knock her into an incoming Bludger, and Katie ducked again as the crowd screamed and howled. The Falcon fans were notorious for hating the Harpies above all teams and were out for blood.

"I know how you all ogle me in your locker room," he said, "got a big poster of me you all snog before matches, eh? Pretend you can get a taste of me for good luck?"

"Flint," Katie said, "if I wanted a taste of you, all I would have to do is offer and you'd rip your uniform off in one second. Don't act like it would be hard."

On her left, Nakamura laughed. "Oh, I think it's hard for you, Bell,' he quipped while Flint turned red.

"Piss off, goal hogger," Flint snarled, "let me get the Quaffle for once."

The both knocked into Katie and she yelped but held on.

"Then take it," Nakamura taunted, "and maybe one day you'll get paid as much as me."

Flint snarled and reached for the Quaffle at the same time Nakamura did and Katie was suddenly the meat in a sandwich of angry bread testosterone. Below her, she could see Ginny flying. Maybe she could risk dropping the Quaffle to her…?

She yelped as they both slammed into her again in unison, crunching her between their brooms, and she heard a crack before she felt it.

"You broke my broom," she said in a daze, as Nakamura seized the Quaffle and flew off in the other direction, the crowd howling, Ginny on his heels, Flint cursing.

"Ride mine," Flint said, curtly, but it was clear his heart wasn't in it, and he was still mad that Nakamura was going to score yet again. The crowd screamed in a frenzy as he scored.

Katie looked down, surprised that the broom hadn't broken in half and she wasn't falling, and that's when she saw her right leg. Flint, for some reason, was still flying next to her.

"You broke my leg," Katie whispered.

"What?" Flint snapped.

"You...you broke my leg," Katie said, voice trembling, staring at her tan Quidditch uniform pants. There shouldn't be any white on them, but there was. There shouldn't be a bone sticking out of her leg, either, but there it was as well.

"Oh, stop whining," Flint snapped, and then he looked at her leg too. "Merlin's balls, Bell!"

The crowd screamed, but through the roaring in her ears, the sharp stabbing pain that was finally hitting her nervous system, it sounded like the baying of demons.

"Bell!" Flint said, alarmed, and that was odd that he sounded like he was worried, and then Katie tilted, and she saw the sky, felt herself slide off her broom into the air. The crowed howled.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, she was in a dark room, the faint lights from a window coming into the room. It was only her incident with the cursed necklace that made her recognize, immediately, where she was. She sat bolt upright, trying to lunge out of the bed, but her leg didn't work right, and she fell with a tiny scream.

The boy who'd been asleep in the chair next to her bed sat upright with a yelp, jumping to his feet, wand out.

"Montague, can you help me up?" Katie said hoarsely as she sweated onto the floor of St Mungo's.

"Katie, it's Harry," the dark shape said, "Harry Potter."

"You didn't have to add the Potter," Katie groused into the floor, but Harry's hands were around her, lifting her up gently, "everyone knows which Harry you mean."

"Not for long," Harry grunted, laying her down in the bed again, tucking her in, pushing a hank of her blonde hair behind her ear like she was his child. It was oddly touching,

"I get three owls a month about some new baby being named Harry," he added, lighting her lamp by the bed. "There's going to be three houses full of Harry's at Hogwarts in around ten years. Not in Slytherin, of course."

Katie snickered. She tried to lift her hand for the glass of water by her bed but found she was too weak. Harry handed her the glass.

"So, Ginny's not giving birth to Harry Junior in a few years?" She jested.

Harry shuddered. "The name's cursed enough as it is," he said.

Katie lifted the glass and spilled some water on herself when her hand trembled.

"What's wrong with me?" she said, "why am I so weak from a broken leg?"

"I mean _broken_ is an understatement," Harry said, "but I suppose your fatigue is...because of the baby."

Katie sputtered as water went in her lungs.

"The..._what_?"

"Oh, they did a scan on you when you came in," Harry said casually, "and they found-"

Katie screeched in incomprehensible horror but then Harry cracked and started giggling, and she tried to throw her water at him. She missed, soaking the front of her hospital gown instead.

"Great," Katie said, "now you're getting a wet t-shirt contest."

"That's why I joined the squad," Harry said, cheerfully, "for all these perks." he waved his wand and Katie felt herself dry off.

"Where is everyone?" Katie asked, praying that Harry would continue to be generous and pretend that he hadn't heard her call him Montague. Why had she thought he was Montague, for god's sake? What the hell was wrong with her? Like Montague would debase himself by parking his patrician arse in a hospital chair for hours.

"The Kestrels are playing the Wasps," Harry reminded her, and Katie remembered that Alicia and Ange's teams were playing each other in one of the annual awkward matches where all of their friends attended and cheered equally for each team, "the match is going long. O'Toole and Williams can't find the snitch."

"Ah," Katie said wearily. Part of her was glad she wasn't at the flat this night. It normally was fine that they all played in the league for opposing teams, but a few times a year it got supremely uncomfortable.

"Hermione's probably feverishly working a button maker somewhere," Harry went on, "you got her all riled up about S.P.E.W. again, Ron said thanks for that by the way, and Percy's probably writing more reports on cauldron bottoms." He snickered.

"What?" Katie said blankly.

"Never mind," Harry coughed, "Ginny's off partying, the Harpies won after you passed out, Hellman scored a few times, sorry, and then Smathers caught the snitch."

Katie groaned, imagining the lecture from Jones about how her love life was ruining her game.

"As for your dedicated and totally honest Slytherin boyfriend, I believe he threw a fit in the waiting room and got escorted out by the hospital security because he wasn't allowed in to see you."

"You...believe?" Katie said, disbelieving.

"Well okay I saw it," Harry said, "and I laughed a bit, I won't lie. He almost threw a punch at Flint."

"At _Flint_?" Katie said, even more confused. Her leg throbbed out of nowhere, but she was too terrified to look at it. The way the bone had stuck out!

"Err," said Harry, and he had the most peculiar expression, like he wanted to laugh and wince at the same time, "well...Flint caught you after you fell off your broom. It was...err…." The way he was avoiding looking in her eyes was ominous.

"What?" Katie said, "_what_?"

"I mean...he was kind of cradling you in his arms," Harry said, lips twitching, "you know, Rita never said who your, er. Mysterious new lover was."

Katie's mouth dropped open. no. Harry couldn't possibly be saying what she thought he was saying.

"Well," Harry went on, "seems she got the idea that er. You know."

"No," Katie said, but Harry misunderstood that denial.

"What I mean is," Harry clarified, "is that Rita didn't say it was Montague, right, , and then when Flint caught you...and you have to understand, that was odd, after that public slap, right, and the way he caught you, well it looked like—I mean it's a better story-"

"No!" Katie all but howled.

"I believe in ripping off plasters," Harry said grimly, although he had been doing the opposite for some time. He reached inside his Auror robes and slapped a Daily Prophet folded over to the sports section on Katie's bed.

She didn't even have to pick it up to see the headline.

It was somehow worse than what Harry had described. The angle the camera had on them accentuated Flint's muscly body, and Katie looked like she was swooning into his arms like they were reenacting a Harlequin romance novel cover.

"Thank god he wasn't shirtless," Katie muttered.

"Er, what?"

"Never mind," Katie said, picking it up to read the damning headline. God, Flint looked like he was leaning in to kiss her after he caught her!

_Star Chasers Romance Exposed? _

_The romantic partner of Katie Bell, first string chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, has been rumored the last few weeks to be behind her improved performance on the pitch, writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent, and the kneazle has been let out the bag at the Falcons Harpies match-up on-_

Katie flung the paper aside, flopped dramatically back onto her pillows, and wrapped her head with her arms. If she couldn't see the world, maybe none of this had happened.

Harry, bless him, let her wallow in silence for some time.

"Why did Montague almost punch Flint?" she asked finally, "and while I'm at it, why was Flint even at the hospital? Why was Montague?"

"You seemed to expect Montague to be here," Harry pointed out.

"That was the potions talking," Katie said. She hadn't even known what they'd pushed down her throat while she'd been out, but surely that was to blame?  
Harry gave a polite little cough that was clearly him covering up a laugh.

"Not sure what instigated the punch,' he admitted, "but I believe Flint is gloating all over the hospital about your injury and how he saved you."

"He's a real hero," Katie said sourly, "tell me, Harry, now that you've passed your last exams and are a fully certified Auror, can you access the classified records?"

Harry coughed again. "Yes," he said, "why?"

"Was my hero Flint ever a Death Eater? there were rumors, you know."

"Not to my knowledge," Harry said, and Katie lowered her arms to look at him, "though, that doesn't mean he wasn't, and didn't get caught. I'm sure we never found them all. You know a lot of them when they saw the tide turning, the centaurs and the house elves and all, they turned and ran? Apparated away?"

"I know," Katie said, "that's why I..."

"As far as I know Montague wasn't either," Harry said, correctly guessing what she was really asking. "But, again, that doesn't mean-"

"I know," Katie repeated firmly.

"If I hear anything, I'll let you know, "Harry said, "you know I'd never let you date a Death Eater."

"Thanks," Katie said gratefully, "but we're not dating anyway. Not really."

"Mmmm," Harry said.

"It's an act!" Katie said, "you know it's an act!"

"It's okay if it's not," Harry said quietly, and Katie felt her chest tighten.

"Did you know the hat tried to put me in Slytherin?" Harry asked after a long moment of silence.

"No," Katie said, shocked, "did it really?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "I've only told a few people that. It said I would do well. But I begged it not to, so it put me in Gryffindor."

"Why are you telling me this?" Katie asked.

"I think you know," Harry replied.

"The hat considered putting me in Hufflepuff for a moment," Katie quipped, "not Ravenclaw. That wasn't an option, with a brain like mine."

"I'm just saying," Harry shrugged, "All this inter-house prejudice is kind of silly, don't you think?"

"I...no," Katie said honestly, "Pansy Parkinson tried to hand you to You-Know-Who, Harry. Crabbe almost killed you and Hermione. Malfoy almost killed me."

"Peter Pettigrew murdered my parents," Harry said, "not with his own hand, but he did it. Gilderoy Lockhart left Ginny to die and tried to wipe mine and Ron's memories and he was in Ravenclaw. Zacharias Smith fled like a coward the night of the battle. Not as big of a deal, no, but..."

"I know what you're saying," Katie said heavily. She picked up the paper again and read how Marcus goddamn Flint was her alleged sexy bad boy boyfriend who was fully responsible for her playing well.

"Didn't he call me ugly in that last Rita article?" Katie demanded, "and the league's broom? so how is he my boyfriend now?"

"You know Rita," Harry said, "she's not known for consistency. And her readers don't notice, or they don't care. Listen, aside from being a bit of a git during games and that time he tried to take points, I haven't heard anything that horrible about Montague. I know Oliver and George hate him, and Ginny and Ron and Angelina, but-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Katie said flatly. She wanted to tell Harry about the bet but saying out loud that Montague had asked how Mudblood tasted to the twins to Harry Potter felt wrong, like she was corrupting her own little brother by teaching him about sex too young.

"Okay," Harry said after a moment, and she had the insane urge to hug him for understanding. Knowing her luck, Rita Skeeter would pop out from under her bed with her photographer and catch them mid hug and the next headline would be about her affair with The Boy-Who-Lived. If she was lucky, Ginny's disemboweling spell would be over fast. "Whatever you need, Katie. I just want you to know that I'm not judging. I just…"

"Yes?" Katie said, expecting a judgment.

"I just want you to be happy," Harry said finally.

Katie's throat constricted unexpectedly.

"I am happy," she managed to get out.

"Are you?" Harry asked, "are you really?"

There was a flash of lights in Katie's mind, the terror pounding in her throat as Selwyn had almost killed her and then George. She saw Colin Creevey's body, the boy who had once given her a flower on Valentine's day, bold as brass, even though he had been fourteen and Katie sixteen, with a cheeky grin. She hazily saw Madam Rosmerta with a wand in a bathroom stall.

"Are _you_?" Katie retorted.

"Happy enough," Harry said, "as happy as someone like me can be."

"That's good," Katie said, lowering her eyes to the blasted article again. Picture Katie swooned as Flint's bicep rippled.

"Maybe Montague could make you happy," Harry said.

"Maybe castrating him would make me happy," Katie said, without much heat.

"Well," Harry said, "whatever floats your boat, Katie."

* * *

When she woke up the next morning, still confused on where she was, she was hit in the face by a room full of flowers, cards, balloons, and candy.

Percy Weasley was sleeping, open mouthed, in a chair.

This time, with the dim light of morning, Katie had the courage to lift the blanket, pull up her nightgown, and gaze at her broken leg.

Relief flooded her. It was like it had never happened. Even though she'd known about magic for over ten years now, it never ceased to amaze her. She stretched her knee, still mesmerized by the smooth stretch of skin above her knee that should have a bone poking through. Something cracked, and Katie shrieked. Percy jolted awake at once, lunged to his feet, his wand out so fast she hadn't even seen it drawn, spinning midair in a circle.

"Where is he? Where is he?" Percy demanded, wand aloft.

The door burst open, and a Healer came inside, her wand also raised.

"Sorry, my leg cracked," Katie said hastily, though that only made the Healer looked more alarmed, "I mean...it made a cracking noise. It's not injured. It startled me. I didn't mean to scream."

The Healer batted aside a seven-foot potted lemon tree. Percy lowered his wand, looking embarrassed.

"I didn't intend to fall asleep," he said, "Harry told me to watch you, he had to go out to—well never mind. Auror stuff. But I haven't slept much in days, important reports to write, you know."

"Cauldron bottoms," Katie muttered.

"Yes, how did you know?" Percy said, but he looked gratified.

"Er, Harry," Katie said.

"I can imagine how waking up in here would startle anyone," the Healer said, gesturing around at a bouquet made of candy, cupcakes, and neon rainbow powdered popcorn,

"I see you have some admirers, Miss Bell."

"Oh, you know," Katie said, turning red, for the lemon tree had a card with familiar handwriting on it, "professional Quidditch player. It goes with the territory." When she looked to her left, so many orchids were visible her eyes crossed.

"We had your Captain in her last year for a broken wrist," the Healer said, bending over Katie and running a diagnostic spell over her healed leg, "most popular female player in the league fifteen years running now. She had about half of this." Her eyebrow cocked.

"It's not from Flint," Katie said hastily, "I swear."

"Well, now I don't have to check your brain for any trauma," the Healer said, and Katie laughed nervously, her eyes darting to Percy, who if he'd been any of his three younger siblings, would have audibly begged to differ.

"Actually," Percy said, "maybe you should."

"Hey," Katie said.

"She touched a cursed necklace in her seventh year," Percy continued, "it gave her some trauma to her memory."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Weasley, I can read a patient's history in their chart," the Healer said mildly.

Katie wanted to be outraged at Percy, but her mind seized on the idea at once.

"Actually, could you check me?" she asked, "I've been worried about it myself, lately."

"Have you been forgetting things?" the Healer said, raising her wand to Katie' s temple.

"No," Katie said, unless of course, you counted reason and good sense.

"Have you been experiencing headaches, or a spinning sensation?"

"No," Katie said, "but I've…been…a bit reckless."

"Reckless how?" the Healer asked.

"Well, the thing is," Katie said uncomfortably, "there's this boy, you see."

* * *

It turned out the Kestrels had beaten the Wasps after the longest league match on record in the past twelve years. It had still been going on while Katie was getting checked for neurological damage. It was a great victory, and Alicia was being gracious in defeat, reminding everyone she wasn't even a first string player so it barely mattered to her to lose, but Ange still left the partying to her team and joined Alicia and Katie for brunch instead.

"Katie's just gotten out of the hospital," Ange said, picking up a chocolate croissant, "this is more important."

"She desperately needs our support," Alicia said solemnly, as if Katie weren't even there.

"My leg's fine," Katie protested, though it was still making cracking noises form the new bone growth, which Healer Wallaby had assured her was normal and would stop after a few days.

"You've also been accused of sleeping with Flint," Alicia pointed out, spearing a strawberry and adding it to a bite of pancake.

"There's a picture and everything," Ange nodded, lips twitching.

"You're right," Katie said, "it's a travesty."

The other girls nodded solemnly. Everyone thinking you were shagging Graham Montague was bad enough. Everyone thinking you were shagging Flint was grounds for flinging yourself from the Astronomy tower.

Edith the waitress spotted them across the restaurant, her face splitting into a grin.

"Oh good," Alicia said, perking up, "our Muggle friend is here. We can fill her in, get her opinion."

"Speaking of Muggle friends," Ange said, "how are yours taking the news about Montague, Katie?"

"Er," Katie said, sliding her gaze to her fried potatoes. If truth be told, she saw her Muggle friends rarely. It was so draining on her. Because it had been her world once, her friends, her life. And now it wasn't, and never could be. She could never go back to being Katie Bell, the skinny long-legged girl who loved science class and playing football at recess with the boys. Not when she knew this other world existed. And while it was fun to get away once in a while, to pretend, to put on Muggle clothes and not worry about her skirts and dresses being too short and revealing, or that she was wearing too much red lipstick, to not have an article written about her every action, it was too sad as well. The freedom she felt with her Muggle friends wasn't real. It couldn't ever be her life. So, the exquisite joy and agony she always felt was too much. Ruby had called her the other day, inviting her out, asking if she'd gone out with the Muggle bartender, asking if she'd punched Montague on the way to the hospital for them all. And she'd lied about it all.

"Girls!" Edith squealed, "I've missed you!"

"We've missed you," Alicia said, "and wait till you hear what's happened!"

They told her the whole story in between breaks as she rushed to her other tables, and when they were finished she looked thoughtful.

"How much of it was from him?" she asked Katie. "The rich wanker."

"Most of it," Katie admitted glumly. The Healer had left, told her she could discharge, and Percy had helped her collect the items, leaving all the flowers in the room with a volunteer wizard with strict instructions to disperse them among other hospital patients. They had fastidiously collected all notes, cards, and evidence and now there was a giant pile in their flat of notes that got increasingly crude from Montague. Seemed he was taking the fact that she hadn't sent him tickets again rather poorly. He'd come to the match anyway, of course, along with Pucey and Warrington, of all people. She though he hated Warrington as much as Katie did, but there Warrington had been, his sloth face smirking at her. Well, the cat was out of the bag, wasn't it? Montague's family must have spread the tale of her snogging Montague far and wide, and Warrington was now getting in on the action. More the fool was he. If he wanted to get with Angelina, he should've gone to her match to cheer her on and get punched in the face by George. Add to that the fact that Flint had caught her in his arms midair and Montague had been denied access to her hospital room and he was rather tetchy at the moment. But then again, when wasn't he?

"Well, you won't catch me feeling sorry for you," Edith said, "sure he's a bit of an arrogant arse-"

"A bit?" the three Chasers chorused.

"Sure, he's in love with himself, smug, crude-"

"Obnoxious, entitled, not even that cute," Angelina continued.

"He's pretty cute now," Alicia mumbled, and Katie and Angelina glared at her. "What? Him being cute at least explains the shagging, Katie!"

"But," Edith continued, "he's rich, he's a good shag-"

Angelina groaned.

"He's a good shag?" Alicia said avidly, "Katie, when did you tell her that?"

"She didn't," Edith shrugged, "but...it's obvious, isn't it?"

"Er," Katie said, her face burning like a candle. If Montague had been a bad shag, that would've made everything okay. Sure, she would've banged an arrogant member of the

Slytherin Quidditch team for no reward, and all the punishment, but at least then it would've happened once, for two minutes, and she would've fled his apartment with her knickers in tow, and she could push the idiot out of her mind. But unfortunately, Montague had not only been a good shag…he'd been a spectacular shag.

"He was good?" Alicia squealed, correctly reading Katie's expression, "why didn't you mention that part?"

Angelina was fanning herself with a menu with one hand and chugging a mimosa with the other.

"Um," Katie choked, picking up her own mimosa glass and swallowing half the glass's contents.

"A good lay and he's rich," Edith continued, "and generous, and he seems like he's half in love with you-"

Katie spat out her mimosa onto the table. The other women stared at the puddle of orange juice champagne, and spittle.

"That still isn't as gross as the thought of Graham Montague being a good fuck," Angelina said grimly, picking up their pitcher of mimosa and pouring herself a fresh glass, then Katie.

"He's not in love with me," Katie protested, shuddering.

"Uh huh," Edith said, "not yet, anyway. I said half-way, didn't I?"

"No ways," Katie said firmly.

"I need confirmation that Montague is good in the sack," Alicia demanded, while Ange moaned, rubbing her forehead.

"What about the jewels?" Edith asked.

"He did it to annoy his parents," Katie said at once. She'd wondered that herself, but then it had been so obvious once she thought about it.

"Like, what is your definition of a good shag?" Alicia asked, "I know you haven't had much experience, Katie, so perhaps you don't quite know when a guy is good? We're going to need details, to be sure."

"Please," Ange groaned, "please Alicia. I beg you."

"What about all the flowers, and the other gifts?" Edith persisted, "the expensive knickers and bras, for one."

"His daddy has got a lot of money," Katie shrugged. This point was easier. "I don't think spending it means much to him. Also, I think he gets a thrill out of blowing his father's money on a Mu—on a poor girl. I think he's rebelling like he's sixteen or something."

"Like, does good in bed to you, mean he didn't cry afterwards?" Alicia mused, "or does it mean he lasted five whole minutes? What am I working with here, Katie?"

"No," Ange moaned, "I don't want to know. Have some mercy, Alicia."

There had been another twelve howlers this morning at their flat. Six had been for Katie, yes, but the other six had been for Angelina, chastising her for dating her dead heroic boyfriend's twin. Rita, of course, had written not only a colorful article about Katie's man being the toothily handsome and muscle bound bad boy of Quidditch, Marcus Flint, but had pulled double duty writing about the Kenmore Kestrel's win and their sole female first string player, the fickle hearted Angelina Johnson.

"Okay, but what about inviting you to meet his parents?" Edith demanded, "That sounds like a boy who wants to show you off to his family."

That was even easier.

"No," Katie said confidently, "I told you, he's going through a very late teen rebellious phase. He hates hanging around with his parents. He asked me to come so I could piss them off and he'd find that entertaining."

"Or did he Polyjuice himself into someone sexier?" Alicia mused, then she darted a look at Edith, "I mean…dressed up as someone else? Is that why he was good, Katie? He wasn't even himself?"

"Like who?" Ange demanded, "who the bloody hell would he turn himself into?"

"I dunno," Alicia said, "Oliver, maybe?"

"_Oliver_?"

"He's got to be good," Alicia said, and Angelina's mouth dropped. "Don't you think? Don't tell me I'm the only one who's thought about this!"

"You are," Ange assured her.

"He's just so dedicated to everything," Alicia said, "one could say, _obsessed_. I'm sure he's obsessed with being good in bed."

"Why don't you find out, Alicia?" Ange said, shuddering.

Alicia got a faraway look in her eye.

"I was joking!" Ange said loudly.

"And you said he's been coming to your football matches, too, "Edith said, "That sounds like a bloke who's invested in you. By the way, which football team do you play for? My mate Amanda is on the Rovers."

"Oh, just a club for fun," Katie said, hastily changing the subject. "As for that, I think he just likes tormenting me. It throws me off my game to see him there."

She had been expecting him to show up against the Falcons, and he had, and it had still made her fly so badly when she spotted him for the first time that Flint had told her to practicing riding something other than Montague for once when he flew by.

"I'm just saying," Alicia said, "I'm starting to believe Katie's sad little exploits with whatshisname, the bloke from a few years ago, the one with the neck mole, has led her to believe that anyone who is vaguely decent in bed is a-"

"He went down on me multiple times," Katie snapped at last, nettled at Alicia's condescending view of her limited sex life, "then we fucked repeatedly. He made me come each time. There. Happy?"

Alicia's mouth dropped.

"I knew it," Edith said triumphantly.

Ange gave a whine like a puppy being kicked, chugged her mimosa, and poured a third, her eyes crossing briefly.

"I could've gone my whole life without knowing Alicia is now having sexual fantasies about Oliver and that Graham Montague, selfish wretched spoiled arsehole, actually knows how to please a woman," she said, closing her eyes briefly, before starting to gulp again. Alicia grabbed the glass.

"I need you to be coherent, Ange," she warned, "I can't be the only one sober hearing this mess."

"It's your own fault," Katie snarled.

"This is something you should've confided to Ginny," Ange said, holding the mimosa glass to her forehead like an ice pack, "she at least doesn't have seven years of classes and memories with that stupid bastard to torment her."

"Ginny fucks Harry," Alicia snorted, "like she knows what a guy is like in bed that's competent."

"Oh noooo," Ange wailed, "don't make me think about_ Harry _fucking!"

All three of them gave a full body shudder. It was almost impossible to think of Harry as a sexual being when he was forever a scrawny eleven-year-old boy with taped owlish glasses in their minds.

"Hermione then," Katie said, "maybe I should've told Hermione."

"She fucks _Ron_," Ange said, aghast, and they shuddered again.

"Do you think she sings _Weasley is our King_ when they do it?" Alicia mused. "But she changes the "our" to "my" of course."

"Alicia, I am warning you!" Ange yelped.

"He tried to visit you at the hospital," Edith said, sighing, as if that were romantic, "you can't argue your way out that one, missy."

Katie opened her mouth, then closed it. That one had thrown her too. Of course he'd sent her tons of presents. She doubted that took him more than thirty seconds. All he had to do was summon Sassy, dictate she buy Katie presents...then spend an hour writing her notes. Okay that last part was strange. Maybe the handwriting wasn't Montague's all along, and had always been Sassy?

"He was mad about Flint," she said at last, "he was...jealous he wasn't the one getting credit for sleeping with me."

Edith cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I know what you're thinking," Katie said defensively, "but jealous boys are stupid. I hate that sort of nonsense. It's all about possession, their egos."

"That sounds like our boy," Alicia nodded.

"Jealousy isn't romantic," Katie persisted, because Edith still didn't look convinced. "It's about what you think you own. Not about you, not really. And who is convinced he owns someone more than a spoiled rich boy?"

"He seems a normal amount of jealous," Edith said, "in my opinion. Or close to it, anyway. A boy who is toxic about that sort of thing would've gotten madder about you snogging that cute bartender right in front of him."

"Oh, he was mad about that," Katie assured her. She wondered how Montague would take the news about her little coffee date, even though it had ended in a whimper, and not the fun kind. What else would you call the realization that you found Montague far more entertaining than a nice cute bloke who your friends would actually like if you dated him? The end of the world?

"Still," Edith shrugged, "I think this boy really likes you."

"No he doesn't," the three girls said in unison.

"You're being blinded by the past," Edith said, "I get it. He was a twit one time."

"One MILLION times," Angelina said, and against her will, Katie remembered her conversation with Harry in the hospital, and how he'd insisted Montague wasn't so bad, not really.

"So, invite him to Alicia's party," Edith shrugged, "and see if he's really changed or not. If he has, great. If he hasn't, enjoy the shagging you got and move on."

"You're so wise," Alicia said, "have you thought about being a tree-a-pist?"

"Therapist," Katie hissed.

"Yeah," Alicia said, helpfully drinking more mimosa to cover her mistake, "that."

"I'm in uni for psychology," Edith said, "I'm using my wages her to pay—" the manager was waving at her again. "Oh, bollocks, I've got to go!"

"Are you mad?" Katie said to Alicia, "or were you humoring her?"

"What?" Alicia said, "I think it's a great idea."

"He's going to ruin your birthday," Ange warned.

"Impossible," Alicia said, "even if he's a wanker—"

"_When _he's a wanker," Katie muttered.

"_When_ he's a wanker, George will punch him in the face, and yay! Bonus present for me!"

"True," Ange said.

"Now hang on," Katie said, alarmed, "this is a terrible idea! We all agreed it's a terrible idea, when Percy said it!"

"Maybe he'll bring me some jewels for my birthday," Alicia said enthusiastically.

"Maybe George will break his nose," Ange said dreamily.

"You two are supposed to be on my side here," Katie said, voice squeaking in fear.

"Rubies would go great with my skin," Alicia mused, turning her golden-brown skin this way and that in the sunshine.

"Maybe George will break his _face_," Ange said, smiling.

Katie groaned, her head thunking to the table. Alas, she had forgotten the spat mimosa, and her cheek slowly soaked in the pool of alcohol, orange juice, and her own spittle.

"It's a metaphor for my life," she mumbled, as over her head Alicia and Ange waxed rhapsodic on the benefits of Graham Montague coming to her birthday, "regurgitated alcohol."

"Don't forget the warm body fluids," Alicia said.

"Okay," Katie said as the door to Quality Quidditch supplies swung shut behind her, a bag dangling off of her arm, "now you're officially stalking me."

Montague raised his eyebrows. "I was getting a new glove set," he said, "I do have my own life, Bell."

He was wearing Muggle clothes still. People walking by were looking at him askance, or perhaps they were looking at Katie Bell, heroine of the Battle of Hogwarts, mediocre Harpies player, and Harry Potter's friend or perhaps former lover, if you believed Rita Skeeter.

"Thought you didn't play anymore," Katie pounced, "or was that a lie?" She knew it was a lie. She just needed Montague to finally admit it.

"For Cassius," Montague elaborated, "It's his birthday soon."

"Well don't expect me to go to his birthday party," Katie said waspishly, and Montague's eyebrows raised further. She had given in and sent him an owl, telling him she was perfectly fine and that her leg had healed well, with a half sentence invitation to Alicia's upcoming birthday party. He'd responded right away with a yes and Katie had died a little further inside. Or perhaps it was the Howler from Flint's mother and the other from his long-time fiancé that had felt like her innards were being yanked. They had taken the Rita article about as well as Katie had.

"But I don't even want him!" Katie had wailed uselessly back at the Howler, hands over ears, as the owls blinked at her in judgment, "You can have him!"

"My brothers will be there," Montague said, "and cousin Mortimis, the one who kept looking at you like you were a roasted quail, so I assumed you'd rather snog an acromantula then attend. Are you mad I didn't invite you?"

"No," Katie snapped.

"Are you mad I haven't seen you since you broke your leg?" Montague asked, as a pair of young witches spotted them and started whispering behind their hands. "I tried to offer to come by, you know, but I suspect you didn't even read my owls."

"I didn't," Katie snarled, "I threw the letters into the fireplace."

"I figured showing up at your flat would be creepy," Montague shrugged, "but I guess I should've come by. You seem mad."

"I'm not mad," Katie said angrily.

"Clearly," Montague quipped, "and might I ask what _you _are doing here? Aren't the Harpies buying all of your gear for you?"

"None of your business," Katie said rudely.

"Do you need a new broom?" Montague asked, "I saw yours got damaged when Flint caught you." He grimaced, clearly remembering the swooning photo. Katie grimaced as well. "I can buy you one. You could've asked."

"So, I'm curious," Katie said, "do you solve all of your problems with money?"

"Wow," Montague blinked, "I see you are determined to do your best pure-blood wife impression today, Bell."

"Like a pure-blood wife would complain about you spending money," Katie said, indignant. "And while I'm at it, I'm not your wife!"

"I was referring to the shrill nagging," Montague said, "the paranoid accusations. The determination to insult me at every turn."

"Thought that last got your juices flowing, Montague," Katie shot back.

He half-smiled. "that they are," he said, "better not let Flint see me talking to you with my juices flowing and all."

"Oh, so you're jealous, now?" Katie said, "cute. Except I hate that sort of nonsense."

"You'll have to work on that," Montague said, "If you insist on acting like a pure-blood wife. They thrive on making their husbands jealous. Mainly because they can't, most of the time."

"I told you," Katie said, "I have no intention of being your wife, Montague. You'd get disowned, for one."

"That's your only objection?" Montague smirked, "why Bell, I'd almost say you were waiting for a proposal."

All this talk of marriage and proposals with Montague was making her teeth itch.

"I'd rather marry Flint," she lied coldly.

"Pathetic attempt at riling me up," Montague said, "as I know you loathe Fling with all of your being, as a person with all of their mental capabilities should."

There was another group of teenagers lingering, and Katie saw one of them point at her.

"Let's go somewhere," she said, "now." Why she didn't just leave without him, Katie would ponder later on, and why Montague obeyed her at once, even though he'd claimed to need gloves for Warrington was another mystery.

Montague put his hands in the pockets of his expensive trousers, following along beside her.

"Avoiding your groupies?" he said amiably.

"Avoiding the press," Katie corrected, "I've had enough Howlers as is. Did you know, not only did Flint's mother, and his fiancé scream at me repeatedly via owl the other day, but your Aunt Celia has sent me three Howlers since that article came out? Apparently, she's even madder I'm two-timing you with Flint. Explain that to me. I would've thought she'd be happy to be rid of me from soiling your precious family."

"I'm sure she is," Montague said as they walked rapidly down a back alley of Diagon Alley, "but she's madder you've chosen Flint, I've heard."

For some reason, Katie's brain kept thinking about Montague's comments on marriage, and engagement. Why on Earth did he keep making these cracks?

"Well, tell her not to worry, I'm not the next Mrs. Flint or Mrs. Montague," she said, then waited. Why was she baiting him like this? What was wrong with her?

"Oh I dunno," Montague said easily, "imagine how nice you'd look in one of the family tiaras. We've got about twenty for you to choose from."

Katie was horror struck. "Your family would never approve of me," she said through numb lips, "don't be silly. You're having some sort of teenage rebellion a few years late, but you won't actually like being disowned, Montague, I promise you."

Montague burst out laughing, drawing attention from a pair of ancient witches near them, who pursed their shriveled lips at their noisy display. "Your face," he choked, "god, Bell, calm down. I've only gotten you in my bed once and you think I want to get married?"

Katie's face burned.

"Scream it a little louder, Montague," she hissed, "and you got more than one sample, I seem to recall."

"That I did," he laughed, "each better than the last, if we're being honest. The first time I couldn't believe it was even happening, so that took away from the effect a bit."

Katie prayed for the cobblestones of Diagon Alley to split, swallowing her up to put her out of her misery.

"I couldn't believe it was happening any of the times," she said through her teeth, but that only made Montague laugh more.

Almost as if some higher power had heard her, her foot caught on a stone and she tripped, a cracking sound coming from her healed leg. Montague caught her before she face planted, his arms around her, and nearby a wizard cheered.

"Top marks, mate!"

"Let go," Katie said, horrified, her eyes darting around to the Alley, which was thankfully mostly empty this late in the day.

"Oh sorry," Montague said, "I forgot, you only want to fall into Flint' s manful arms." But he placed her upright and let go as Katie made a vomit sound.

"Don't be disgusting," she said, "you know he pumps three times, and then he stares at himself in a mirror and finishes."

Montague snickered. "Well, we both know you prefer my performance, eh Bell?"

"Jesus," Katie hissed, "do you ever quit?" She began power walking faster in the direction of George, and refuge from prying eyes.

"No," Montague said, as he hurried to catch up, "as you can attest, Bell. I told you, I was all ready to go the next morning, but-"

"Yes yes," she said, eyes darting around, "I know. You can't resist me." They were almost there. George would probably punch Montague and then she'd flee.

"You're hard to resist," Montague said, and then his arm was around her shoulders, "that arse alone, Bell..."

"I said get off," Katie hissed again, but then her leg took that choice moment to make another cracking sound and buckled.

"Bell, I thought you got that fixed," Montague said, alarmed.

"I did. Will you get off of me?"

Montague frowned at her, and then let go, and she almost fell over. He reached for her and stopped with a scowl when she waved him away.

"You should get that looked at," he said, "some shoddy spell work was done on you, I'd say."

"I will," Katie promised. They walked in silence for another minute as it grew darker and the lamps glowed.

"Listen, Bell, how many dates do we have to go on before I'm allowed to act like your boyfriend?" Montague said. She couldn't see his face in the twilight.

"What do you mean?" she said weakly.

"You know what I mean," Montague said.

"I thought you preferred it this way," Katie said, "I'm your dirty little rebellious secret, remember?"

"No," Montague said, "I'm_ your _dirty little rebellious secret."

"You're the one sneaking about alone in Muggle clubs," Katie said, stung, "you're the one wearing Muggle clothes right now, in fact. You're the one who could never actually date a Gryffindor, not to mention, god forbid, a haggard ancient Mudblood who's actually fucked other guys."

"That's funny," Montague said, 'because I'm the one who's introduced you to his family, aren't I? I'm the one who came to your matches in Harpies shirts. I' m the one who's under strict orders not to talk about you to my mates."

"Only because they'd say crude things about me," Katie retorted.

"And you think I'd let them?" Montague demanded, "you think I'd let them talk about my girl like that?"

"Your girl?" Katie said, feeling warm.

"Oh let's stop playing pretend, Bell," Montague said, "it was extremely amusing at first to watch you tie yourself in knots pretending you didn't want this as much as I do, I'll grant you, but I'm getting rather tired of it now. It was funny enough when I knew it was me who was your filthy Slytherin boy you were toying with, but now that everyone's owling me, crowing about how Flint got you in bed…"

"I knew it!" Katie yelled, thanking god, Dumbledore, Merlin, and Santa that Montague hadn't seen her face after he'd called her his girl, couldn't know what she'd been feeling. "This is only bothering you because Flint is getting the credit! Because he won the bet!" She stopped in the empty alleyway that shortcut to the back of the twin's shop, crossing her arms in defense.

"Bet?" Montague said blankly, "what bet?"

"Oh, you're hilarious," Katie said, "really, so funny. Like you don't know."

"I _don't _know," Montague said, heatedly, "I've never heard about some bet involving you."

Katie snorted.

"I haven't, Bell! Care to enlighten me?"

"No," Katie said frostily, "because you already know."

Montague threw up his hands. The lamp nearby grew brighter as it detected the growing gloom and she saw his face in shadow.

"You're impossible, Bell," he said, "I cannot believe you're claiming the high ground here. What exactly, have I done that's so dastardly? What have I done to deserve you

treating me like this?"

Katie felt a stab of guilt, but then she remembered what Oliver and George had told her, and she saw red.

"What have you done?" she hissed, "how about, being a bully for years?"

"That was a long time ago," Montague said, "that's not fair, Katie. I was a kid."

"I was a kid, too, and I didn't bully people," Katie said indignantly.

"Alright, fine, I was a bully," Montague said, "what else?"

"You're a bully now," Katie insisted, "you were rude to my Muggle friends, and you're a snob."

"I was nice to them,' Montague insisted, "for hours. And as for being a snob, I thought you'd met some real snobs the other night."

"Yes, and good job standing up to them for me," Katie retorted, "while I got insulted for hours."

"I did stand up for you!" Montague said, "I got threatened with disownment!"

"You said that happens all the time and comes to nothing," Katie said coldly, "don't exaggerate your heroism."

"Fine, so I'm not a hero like precious Potter," Montague scoffed, "we already knew that. What else?"

"You had a bet about sleeping with me," Katie said, "stop denying it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Montague said, "when was this? Now? Do you mean now?"

"In school," Katie said, her jaw tight.

"Well that's a load of bollocks," Montague snorted, "and I'll tell you why. I wanted to fuck Cho Chang in school, not you."

It was ridiculous, but Katie felt a sharp pain at that. What the hell was wrong with her?

"Is that all, Bell? And by the way, who lied to you and told you that?"

"It's the truth," Katie insisted.

"You looked like a scrawny spider in school," Montague scoffed, "I told you that. In school I was fucking Candace Carodoc, a Slytherin girl a year above me, and I wanted Cho Chang. Don't get all testy about it. You wanted Terence Higgs, if I recall."

"You're friends with Death Eaters," Katie hurled, infuriated at the audacity of Montague's lies, but apparently she'd gone too far.

"I told you I'm not friends with Malfoy," Montague said, "now, apologize to me."

"No," Katie retorted, "fuck off. You're a liar."

Montague stared at her, his face twisted in a sneer.

"You know what?" he said, "You've been amusing, Bell, but really you've been a waste of time, haven't you?"

"Well you already got what you wanted from me," Katie said, "didn't you?"

"Yeah," Montague said, his face still twisted in that horrible sneer that reminded her of interacting with him at Hogwarts, "I did. Right away, too, Bell. I thought it would be harder."

She felt like dying from humiliation.

"Well, what can I say?" She shrugged, "I was bored."

Montague opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head.

"That's it," he said, "I'm done. Your games are dull, Bell. You're not so different from a pure-blood girl, you know. Sure, you lack the breeding and the manners and the taste and the money, but you still tease and tease and tease, waiting for that ring to give it up. Except you made a mistake and gave it up right away. You'll have to change that next time for it to work."

"I don't want a ring from you," Katie said, her ears ringing, "I don't want anything from you."

"Now that's a lie," Montague scoffed, "but whatever you want from men, better make sure not to spread your legs so easily for the next guy. I didn't even have to try."

Katie slapped him as hard as she could, and he stumbled. She had sixteen insults ready, but instead, she humiliated herself.

"I thought you weren't going to let anyone talk about your girl that way?" Katie said, her eyes watering. "You bloody sexist pig!" She pulled out her wand to Apparate away, but Montague grabbed her wrist.

"Let go!" Katie said again.

"Are you crying, Bell?" Montague said, and his face had changed from that grotesque sneer, his voice low.

"No," Katie said furiously, but Montague reached up with his other hand and wiped away a tear.

"I didn't mean it," he said at once, "I'm sorry. I was lying. You're right. I just thought...Adrian said…"

"I said, let go!" Katie said, louder, now cursing that she'd gone down an empty alleyway as a shortcut.

"Adrian said you were toying with me," Montague persisted, "he kept telling me you were using me for a laugh, or a game or...I don't know. Some sort of revenge for your mates, I dunno. He told me you'd hurt me."

"So you had to say mean things to hurt me instead?" Katie said, "You know what? I don't care. Let go. Give me back my knickers, that's all I want from you. See you never."

"No," Montague said, "come on, Bell, you were being cruel too. How was I supposed to know you cared? You're hiding me from everyone, going on dates with that Muggle-"

"What?" Katie said, "no I'm not."

"Sassy saw you," Montague said regretfully, "she told me. I was hoping you would tell me."

"You had your house elf stalking me?" Katie hissed, her rage rising again. God, Montague knew how to wreak havoc with her emotions like no one had since the battle of Hogwarts.

"It was an accident," Montague insisted, "she wanted to give you a present she'd made. But you didn't tell me, and you didn't get me tickets for your matches, you didn't invite me to the after party when I know you could've taken me, it took you a month to grudgingly invite me to hang out with your mates-"

"Pucey was right," Katie said viciously, "I am toying with you."

Montague had let go of her wrist some moments before, but she didn't trust herself to Apparate in this state. Or so she told herself.

"No, you're not," Montague said, his eyes searching her face, "then why are you crying?"

"Being in your presence is upsetting," Katie tried, but that only made Montague smile.

"You're right, I did tell you a lie about something," he said.

"Shocker," Katie muttered, waiting for the truth about the bet to finally be confessed, but Montague surprised her again.

"I didn't want Cho Chang in school," he said, hand back on her face, tracing her lips, "I wanted you."

He leaned forward and kissed her, and for a minute, Katie kissed him back. Okay, for many minutes. And maybe her mouth had opened, her tongue touching his. Maybe her arms had gone around his neck. Maybe she'd let him push her against the brick, maybe she'd dropped her bag on the ground, maybe she'd stuffed her wand away, maybe she'd gasped when he started sucking on her neck in that spot he'd discovered in his bed that she loved.

"Katie," Montague groaned against her, and triumph surged in her.

_I've got you now_, her heart sang.

"Don't ever talk to me like that again," she said out loud instead.

"No," Montague vowed, "I won't. Not to my girl."

Katie laughed, and he pulled back.

"What?"

"Oh, you just tickled me, is all," she said, breathless, and Montague leaned forward to kiss her again, as she bit back another laugh.

_You should've listened to Pucey,_ Katie thought, exhilarated.

* * *

**Author Note:** Just to be clear I do not co-sign any of this behavior as being healthy or desirable in real life relationships, from either side, but this is fanfic trash. :)


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